


Jashin's Blessing

by cleighc



Category: Naruto
Genre: Dark, F/M, Gen, Jashinism, Ninken | Ninja Dogs, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Hatake Kakashi, Psychological Trauma, Suffering, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 22:41:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13936947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleighc/pseuds/cleighc
Summary: Through a Jashinistic Ritual, Sakura receives a seal that allows her to glimpse at the past and future suffering of the people around her. She eventually decides to intercede with future events.





	1. Something Wicked This Way Comes

**Author's Note:**

> This is a brand new idea. Please let me know what you think.
> 
> As a general disclaimer, I do not own Naruto, I am interpreting Jashinism with some artistic license, and this story will be very dark. It is about everyone's pain and suffering, after all, but I will be angling towards a happy ending.

**Chapter 1: Something Wicked This Way Comes**

* * *

 

“Listen to God with a broken heart. He is not only the doctor who mends it, but also the father who wipes away the tears.”

― Criss Jami

* * *

 

Sakura screamed.

Shrieked.

Shivered.

Yanked on her short pink locks in an obvious display of distress and fear.

And then she quieted, an unnatural stillness that would have marked death had it not been for the bright pink flush covering the pale skin of her small frame. Painting her fever.

Mebuki circled her young daughter with anxious steps. This had to be a nightmare. Why else would her young daughter, barely old enough to no longer be considered a toddler, be afflicted by a virulent pathogen while they were traveling back from Wind Country? Days from any healthcare facility?

Even with her very limited medical training, Mebuki recognized the infamous illness, and knew it was in its final stage. The delirium, the shaking, the high fever. The bruises blossoming under the skin that spoke of internal bleeding. But she hadn’t anticipated the suffering, and the young mother could feel her heart breaking listening to those painful little shrieks.

She was desperate. Her other traveling companions had isolated themselves from the ailing child in some desperate charade of a quarantine. They were terrified, Mebuki could see it in their faces. Lines of stress that pulled at the skin on their face, exaggerated by their recent exposure to the dry climate and heat of Sunagakure. She turned to their escort, a shinobi who had been hired to act as their guard between Konohagakure and Sunagakure.

“Sarutobi-san.” Her voice choked on the syllables, her cheeks warmed by tears.

The look the young man gave her was rife with bitter resignation, and Mebuki barely realized she was shaking her head.

“No. No! You have to do something. My baby girl…”

“I apologize Haruno-san, but there is nothing that we can do. We are too far away from Konoha to make it to the hospital in time to save her. You know how close it is to the end.”

Mebuki was barely aware of a distressed sob bursting from her lips as she sank to the floor in despair.

Her beautiful baby girl was…

Some unanimous decision had been reached by the rest of their traveling party, who decided to camp for the night on the other side of the river in order to wait out the little girl’s death. Akira-san must have convinced them to wait for her. Fuck, she would need to find a way to make it up to him…

Mebuki tended to her daughter as best as she could, now resigned to at least make her passing as comfortable as possible. She wet rags and wrapped it around the girl’s small face. The mother rubbed the girl’s sizeable forehead with a strange sense of morose longing.

And then she gently washed and wrapped the thin, visible calves and forearms. Only a few minutes passed before Sakura started shaking, and Mebuki wasn’t sure if she should remove the rags and track down a blanket, or…

This train of thought was interrupted by a heavy hand on her shoulder. Mebuki turned, half expecting it to be Sarutobi-san (the only other adult on this side of the river). Instead it was an unremarkable looking middle aged man dressed in long, dark robes, who was peering down at her daughter with an expression of intense interest.

“This is your daughter?”

Mebuki shot to her feet defensively and nodded, wary of the stranger and his two comrades. She would be a fool not to be. But amidst the trepidation there was a tinge of desperate hope felt along the curve of her clenched fingers… After all, they were dressed like monks, and it was not uncommon for traveling monks to have some modicum of healing experience, was it not? Perhaps they would be able to help her daughter?

The man’s next words quickly disabused her of that belief.

“Her suffering is quite beautiful.”

It wasn’t. Not at all.

The two men on either side of this charlatan nodded enthusiastically in agreement. The de facto leader seemed encouraged by their energy, and turned to them, impassioned. “You see here? Her pain? Her anguish? These feelings have completely taken over her sense of self, and left her open for understanding. At this moment, so close to the precipice of death, she is capable of empathizing with a reality beyond her years. A fundamental experience shared by us all that serves to connect us and ground our time in this world.”

Something was obviously very wrong with the man, and Mebuki found herself crouching in front of her daughter defensively. It was at this point that Sarutobi-san felt it necessary to intervene.

“Good afternoon. Might I ask what you are doing here? The girl is diseased. You should reconsider getting too close to her, especially so close to the end of her illness.”

The man grinned. “I could only be so lucky as to share her suffering. But no. We have a prior engagement in Yugakure, and are just passing through. However, we do know a few seals that might be capable of saving her from death.”

Sarutobi-san frowned, and stared at the clothing ensemble and mannerisms of the men suspiciously. “You are not shinobi.”

The leader’s smile turned self-deprecating. “Not very good ones, no, but I know my way around a seal or two.”

“I see. And you are traveling around for what purpose? I hope you don’t find the question too intrusive, but you are technically in Fire Country, and I have a right as a shinobi of Konohagakure to investigate any possible threat occurring within our borders.”

The leader’s smile widened. “You think I am a threat?”

Sarutobi-san’s answering grin was tense. “I may not after you state your business.”

“Ah. Well. My companions and I are monks practicing Jashinism. We are missionaries on a pilgrimage, attempting to recruit new members.”

So they _were_ monks. Mebuki had never heard of Jashinism before, but she was sure it was just another religious group formed in reaction to the violence and instability of their world, who forwarded beliefs of peace and harmony. His comments about death were more than a little off-putting, but it would not be the first time she heard of the act of passing as beautiful because it allowed an opportunity to visit a higher plane or a higher power. Surely that is what he was referring to?

And he offered to help.

And thus, it was at this point that Mebuki interrupted impatiently, “You believe you can save her?”

Sarutobi-san let out a disapproving noise, before stating, “Haruno-san…”

The robed man smile rubbed her as both inappropriate and slightly demented, but Mebuki was more than a little desperate. “I can certainly make an attempt. Whether or not she lives, however, lies in Jashin’s hands.”

She quickly nodded. “I understand. And I would appreciate the attempt.”

Another smile, and the man and his two followers moved around the girl. He removed a bottle of ink, and began to cut away at the clothes covering her thighs and upper arms with a small knife. The blade just barely nicked her shoulder, and the man turned back to give Mebuki an apologetic grin while she watched him smear the drops of blood falling down her daughter’s arm.

The ink was applied quickly and smoothly, in a sure, steady hand that spoke of practice and experience. And then all three men began chanting to this Jashin, hands folded and their heads bowed forward towards Sakura’s body with their eyes closed.

Only a few minutes passed before Sakura’s small body shot up, and her mouth opened wide as she let out a piercing scream. Mebuki couldn’t help but rush forward, but was stopped by the leader who shot her a penetrating look. “Do you remember how you felt during childbirth?”

Mebuki nodded dumbly, fingers clenched as she tried to resist tending to her little girl.

“Pain in the body is always necessary. Be patient.”

Another scream, another struggle, and this time the two followers shot forward to hold down the girl’s limbs. Mebuki felt her body tense from the sound.

And then Sakura’s body shuddered and shook in a way that was almost unnatural, and Mebuki’s grief and doubt struck starkly. Perhaps she was wrong to turn to these strangers for aid if this is what it amounted to? More pain and misery for her baby girl before she finally left this world?

Her indecision must have shone from her face, because the man gestured for her to sit next to him. Mebuki sat gingerly, and sought to reassure herself.

“Why are you doing this?”

The man’s smile softened. “Jashin’s will works in mysterious ways. We need to trust in his whims. Besides… when you look at your daughter, what do you see?”

Mebuki turned to Sakura and looked. “A life unlived. She’s so small… My baby girl. Barely old enough to have her own dreams and make her own decisions. She…” Mebuki stuttered to a stop, choking out another sob.

The man nodded sagely. “I see potential too.”

Mebuki nodded through a teary smile. Another wild buck up from the small girl made the two followers grunt in surprise. The leader turned towards Sarutobi-san with an imploring look. “I don’t suppose you would be willing to help keep her down?”

The young man nodded reluctantly, before moving to kneel between the two followers. All five of them watched Sakura writhe and buckle, making a shark keening sound.

What happened next was a flurry of movement. Mebuki barely registered the leader make a sign with his fingers, before one of the men leaned towards Sarutobi-san after a particularly strong kick made by her daughter. Then, in just a second, the man jabbed a pressure point on the shinobi, who had turned and gutted the man opposite reflexively in response. Both men fell, the follower bleeding profusely. The woman sat still in shock, barely registered the bubbling flow of red that poured onto the dirt surrounding her quivering daughter.

Who was suddenly thrashing uncontrollably, no longer held down.

The leader turned towards the man. “Kaito. Move the shinobi.” He turned to look at her, and Mebuki was struck by the fact that for the first time in their short acquaintance, he was not smiling. “Hold her,” he commanded, and she promptly complied.

Mebuki shook in fear, looking down at the fallen men. “Why… why didn’t you kill him?”

If this was what it seemed to be, they should have tried to kill him, right?

“His death would have been premature. He still has suffering to experience before he is ready.” He paused before continuing. “You on the other hand…”

Mebuki shook, terror starting to settle into her bones. “Me?”

The look in his eyes turned fanatical. “Jashin demands a sacrifice. As a token of his good will, you understand. Accepting your daughter is no trifle thing, after all.”

She couldn’t help by repeat him, stuttering. “A-accepting my daughter?”

“Naturally. These seals were a bid for his blessing.” The man paused, and then his smile was back, somehow more maniacal than before. “I wonder how it will manifest. After all, Jashin loves us and caters to our needs individually.”

He stared off into space for a few moments, before he turned back towards her. His gave turned more intense, but somehow less insane. “You love your daughter very much?”

Mebuki nodded, barely registering her shaking hands and the warm tears pooling at her chin.

Another grin. “Then you should be happy to die in her place.”

The fear and adrenaline got to her, and before she realized it, she had jumped up and shot forward into the woods.

She couldn’t think about the beautiful little girl she left behind, of the shinobi that had become a friendly acquaintance during their month of travel. All she could think about was the terror pooling in her limbs, and the burning in her lungs as she pushed her legs forward in desperation.

But she was a terrified civilian, unused to traveling through the forest. She did not get very far. And it took no time at all for the uninjured follower to catch up to her and drag her back to the clearing.

The leader’s face was noticeably less pleasant upon her return. “I have to say, I didn’t take you for a coward. Running like that. Your love must not be very strong.”

Life seemed to converge and tighten, and suddenly Mebuki could barely hear the pounding of her heart. “No matter. I am sure I can convince you to truly appreciate pain before your passing.”

She barely noticed his face turn white, and then pain radiated from her shoulder.

The man’s smile turned gleeful. “Share in your daughter’s suffering. Let’s see if you possess the same strength.”

She didn’t. She really didn’t. The blows and cuts seemed to come from nowhere, and the shock to her system made her shake. The pain was blinding, searing into her everything, and she could no longer feel the weight of her body. She was without shape, nothing but burning nerves and dripping blood…

Mebuki begged for her life. Her body, strangely energized from the pain, bowed and grasped, offering anything and everything she had.

When the man heard her offer money, he scoffed as if offended. “Why would I need your money? Are you trying to tempt me towards sin? How insulting. As is the fact that you do not seem capable of understanding what an invaluable experience this is. Do you think everyone is worthy of a sacrifice? Of experiencing this kind of death?”

More mumbled pleas, and desperation, and her hands felt slick with blood, and…

“Shut the fuck up already! Accept your fate!”

With his anger, the pain somehow increased, spreading through her body, and she cried, and the liquid surrounding her was warm. Warm tears, warm blood, warm urine… She shot her eyes open one last time, and saw her daughter, who had her eyes open in terror. Blood was completely slathered over the small girl, and Mebuki could see the seals painted on her skin retracting.

“Sa-kura-” Mebuki tried to say, but then there was a blinding light, piercing warmth, and then darkness.

* * *

To be continued...

 


	2. Screams Into The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asuma POV.

**Chapter 2: Screams Into The Night**

* * *

 

“Memories are bullets. Some whiz by and only spook you. Others tear you open and leave you in pieces.”

― Richard Kadrey

* * *

 

Asuma shot up, suddenly conscious. His breathing was harsh, and he looked around wildly, trying to remember why. Why he was laid out on the forest floor, why there was blood smeared to the front of his uniform, why he felt an incessant urge to get up, be on guard, defend and protect…

It came back to him in flashes, and suddenly he was on his feet heading towards a familiar clearing.

He couldn’t stop himself from breathing in a gasp when he saw what was there. What was left. The war may have inured him to the sight of dead bodies, but he liked to think that he retained enough humanity to be properly horrified in the face of true brutality, especially against those he shared a fond familiarity with.

Sakura-chan’s small body was completely covered in blood, and surrounded by shredded corpses. One of them Asuma was able to recognize as Mebuki-san, her torso torn and her limbs unnaturally askew. Her pale green eyes were looking up at the sky blankly.

Beside her was a man Asuma recognized from their traveling party. Akira-san, if he wasn’t mistaken. His body was dismembered in pieces, and almost seemed to be distributed around the girl like some macabre sacrifice.

And finally, the man Asuma remembered stabbing, blood no longer seeping from the large hole in his torso, but the sliced entrails were leaking a pale yellow fluid and letting off a disgusting stench.

Asuma just stood there for a few moments in horrified shock, before the guilt settled in. It was his responsibility to prevent something like this. His role as an escort to look out for any kind of threat. And he had failed, completely. Not only that, but their deaths looked particularly painful. His fists clenched through a strong wave of disgust and self-hatred…

Asuma allowed himself a few steadying breaths before he came towards the small group, intent on sealing the bodies of the Konoha civilians in scrolls for ease of transport.

Only a few steps away, one of the bodies shot up and Asuma barely prevented himself from throwing a kunai through Sakura-chan’s chest.

The little girl looked impossibly small surrounded by the dead, larger adult bodies, and her green eyes were especially bright framed in red. She looked around reluctantly, as if she knew exactly what she would find, and tears began to stream down her small cheeks as she found her mother. Her eyes met his desperately.

“Sarutobi-san.”

Her whisper was hoarse. Asuma attributed that to the copious amounts of screaming. He approached cautiously, for a variety of reasons. “Sakura-chan? How are you feeling?”

She struggled to answer him through her tears and distress. “I-I’m… what happened? I don’t…”

Asuma frowned deeply. He would address the concerns about her mother after he figured out the status of her illness. Although the coherency of her consciousness indicated that the seals might have actually proven effective. “Sakura-chan. Do you still feel sick?”

She shook her head, shaking. “No.” She dug the heels of her palms into her eyes, perhaps to staunch off the tears, then looked back at him distressed. “Who was that man? Why…”

Asuma carefully made his way over to her, and cautiously put a hand on her forehead. The little girl blubbered a little bit in response, but some of his unease was put to rest. No fever.

She latched onto his arm with no small amount of desperation.

Asuma didn’t have the heart to detach himself, and quickly gathered and sealed the bodies of the two Konoha citizens, as well as the dead follower monk, with an efficient numbness. Her grip tightened as he made to move away. He moved her small hand from his arm to his hand, and gently tugged her small wrist away from the bloody clearing.

He moved towards the river, and encouraged the girl to wash off some of the blood, but she refused to leave his side. Asuma considered dropping her in, but just a few steps away he could already feel the chill of the water, created by the spring melting of snow in the mountains. Probably too cold for a little body that had recently been so ill.

Grimacing, he picked her up and walked across the surface of the water to the other bank, only to find that the remaining members of their party had obviously fled.

Fuck.

Asuma was not particularly known for his tracking skills, but he could tell they were headed towards Konoha. Civilians, weighed down with heavy carts and caravans as a result of their recent trade in Sunagakure, were easy to follow.

They did not reach them by the first night. Sakura-chan insisted on walking, needing to feel her feet on the ground so she could more easily respond to a potential threat (or perhaps he was projecting), and the short limbs did not make it very far. But they were close, so Asuma had no reservations about stopping for the night.

He shared his bed roll and the heat of his body, the least he could do, he convinced himself. But the experience was, at first, very odd. Her small jerks and stoppered breathing nudged him repeatedly towards awareness. And then her recent trauma seemed to catch up to her, and Asuma could not sleep for the screaming. Over and over she threw herself, and clawed, and shrieked in a bone-chilling, absolutely terrified and pained manner that made Asuma feel washes of self-hatred and disgust all over again.

Eventually both of them made an unconscious agreement to huddle together, awake, staring into the darkness around them.

They reached the party the next day. Said party had absolutely no desire to stay with them, and not-so-kindly demanded that he and the girl leave their presence. He told them that according to his responsibility as a shinobi to complete missions to the best of his capability, he was required to escort them to the village gates.

Their responses were dramatic. Seething hisses, terrified retreats around wooden carts, blatant threats about reports to the Hokage unless he would just- let… them… be.

Sakura-chan took the brunt of their ill will, and couldn’t stop fidgeting her hands, looking around the party with blatant fear and suspicion.

She whispered her concerns to him. “What will I do if they come back?”

Asuma recognized the need for a security blanket, even if he wasn’t exactly sure how to provide one. With no small amount of trepidation, he gave the small girl a kunai. “Use this,” he stated gruffly, trying to ignore the intense look of desperate hope shining from the green as Sakura-chan tucked the bladed weapon closer to her chest.

Their traveling companions did not take his actions very well, and questioned, loudly, if the two were planning a massacre. Of all the absolutely ridiculous things…

He ignored them until the night, during which more of Sakura-chan’s screams pierced the surrounding forest. Sleep deprived and upset, he was barely aware of the remaining members of their party leaving in the night as he held onto the small girl’s shaking form. And he stopped caring. All day he and Sakura-chan had suffered from their abuse. And they were only a couple of hours away from the village. Let them leave.

He had already failed this mission rather spectacularly.

It was then that he became aware of the fact that Sakura-chan’s nightmares were not centered around her mother, or the men that attacked them. They were not centered around her illness. She was muttering about people he was certain she had never met.

“Chiriki, stop, he’s lying. He’s not the right man. We need to go back-”

“No, please, hold onto me. You can’t die yet-”

“Kurenai- no, get the fuck away from her, you don’t understand…”

Asuma remembered, and his body tensed. What was this? Those were his words. How could she-

Then-

“The “kings” are the unborn children who will grow up to take care of the leaf. One is still in Kurenai’s womb… hers and my child. Take care of my “king”-”

Another piercing scream, and the girl shot up with tears in her eyes. She took one look up at him and threw her arms around his shoulders. Asuma was still stiff and oddly afraid.

“You died, you died, don’t die, please don’t die, I don’t want to be alone…”

Oh, kami. What was this?

“Sakura-chan, what did you see?”

He was almost too afraid to ask.

She was shaking. “You… you were in pain. They tried to kill them, tried to kill you. And then... You died protecting them, but it hurt, so much, because of who you were leaving behind…”

“Them?”

Her eyes were oddly imploring, devastated and desperate. “Your team.”

She shook, still covered in blood, still crying, still trying to dig her head into his chest- and Asuma couldn’t stop considering the implications. What was this? How did she know? His memory of those events was too sharp to readily dismiss, but the rest of it…When did Kurenai get pregnant? He had never even touched his best friend. And what team? He had only recently joined the Twelve Guardian Ninja, having been given this mission as a belated favor to the daimyo for trading purposes. What…

He lifted the girl, almost mechanically, and packed up their small campsite. And headed for the gates of the village he had only left a year ago. He needed… something. Time. Consultation. Sleep.

He briefly toyed with the idea of informing his father about the girl’s recent ability, but what did he have to go off of? Nothing substantial. And for all he knew, this experience was a fluke.

Best to forget about it. Release the girl into her father’s custody, deliver the bodies, and leave for the daimyo. As quickly as possible.

* * *

To be continued...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think? Next chapter should be posted this evening. My stories usually include really long chapters, so I am trying something new. Shorter chapters, more frequent updates? Maybe a willing compromise?


	3. And They All Come Tumbling Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kizashi POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think. I'm always wary about posting things I think might be too intense...
> 
> On that note, here is a disclaimer. This is a dark chapter, which heavily features suicide, mental illness, and rape. So proceed with caution if you are sensitive to any of those issues. And to anyone who might be suffering from suicidal impulses, please get help. Suicide should never be the right option.

**Chapter 3: And They All Come Tumbling Down**

* * *

 

“Why is there ever this perverse cruelty in humankind, that makes us hurt most those we love best?”

― Jacqueline Carey

* * *

 

Kizashi was suspended in a state of shock.

He had been eagerly awaiting the return of his wife and young daughter, who had accompanied a trading caravan to Sunagakure in order to gauge the future market of certain goods and help him secure a good investment. The third shinobi war had just ended a year and a half ago, and the merchant clans were eager to renew trade between the shinobi nations.

And he had faith in their safety. Sarutobi Asuma, the Hokage’s own son, was an accomplished and powerful shinobi. He was sure that if anyone could keep them safe, it was him.

Apparently his faith had been mistakenly given. He could barely look at the man that had delivered the corpse of his wife. And his poor daughter, shaking and covered in blood, obviously anxious, and fidgety, and terrified… Filled with self-righteous anger, it was easy to dismiss the guilt and apology in the other man’s eyes.

He issued a burial in the village cemetery as soon as he was able, and then a funeral ceremony shortly after that. It was a small, intimate affair, and as grief-ridden as he felt during the procession, he cursed the clear, sunny sky. He couldn’t fathom how the heavens themselves weren’t tearful at her passing.

Of course, he told his daughter that it was a sign of joy. That kami was so happy to be joined by the loveliness of her mother, that the sky couldn’t help but shine. And his poor daughter, the shadows under her eyes forming dark circles, her dry lips cracked enough to display a sliver of red, her fingers restless and forming callouses from the way she kept gripping the handle of a kunai… his poor daughter just looked at him, and he knew that she didn’t believe a word that came out of his mouth.

His life following that point was a transition. A horrible, lonely transition. Life without Mebuki was cold mornings under dirty sheets, too much coffee, and warm tears before he passed out in the afternoon asleep at his desk. It was too much silence, and not enough cookies on the weekends, not enough flowers carefully arranged beside the sink in the kitchen, not enough smiles, or laughs, or shared amused glances after witnessing his daughter’s silly, childish antics…

And life with a traumatized Sakura- days of distracted frowns and pacing, anxious limbs, followed by nights of terrified screams and desperate tears. He was forced to lock the girl away, alone, behind four closed doors just so he could get some sleep, because otherwise (too tired) he was too easily annoyed, too quick to correct his daughter with impatient, sharp retorts, too likely to forget necessary things like baths and food for the both of them…

Kizashi could feel his control over the situation slipping, and fell into work. Guilt prompted him to occasionally check on his daughter, who could often times be found reading or staring blankly through the window. She was now completely silent, and he did his best not to let it bother him.

But then his desperation for distraction was single-minded enough to negatively affect his memory, and increasingly often he found himself forgetting to make meals. He took to setting an alarm and forcing himself to make food for his daughter, and occasionally he could convince himself to eat too.

He was trying. The depression was deep and so disturbingly subtle, it took an interaction with a woman from the market to realize that his entire viewpoint of people and life had taken a dramatic change for the worst. She recommended that he talk to a professional. He gave her a fake smile and told her he would think about it.

And it did get better. For a few days, after a few investments came back especially fortuitous, Kizashi was able to reign back some emotional control. He took his little girl out for ice cream, and was able to see her smile and relax for the first time in weeks. He had decided, still high on this burst of happiness, that perhaps she might be well enough to sleep through the night.

He had been wrong.

But it wasn’t screams that awoke him that night. Through their open bedroom doors, he heard just a name. It was whispered like a lullaby, and invaded his dreams.

 “Sara…”

At first he barely recognized the murmured syllables, before something familiar shot awareness through his body, and he came to with a start.

Heavy breathing as he started to remember, a familiar guilt started to sink into his chest... But he pushed the feelings back. Probably a nightmare.

Silence as he tried to calm his mind and go back to sleep. But then-

"Sara..."

It took a moment before Kizashi realized where the whispers were coming from, and then he panicked.

"Sara..."

This was no dream. How did she know? How could she know? He had never told anyone. Certainly not Mebuki. And how could he? It had been a mistake. A folly of his youth, a crime committed when he was just a teenager, egged on by the insecure egos of other teenage boys.

Silence. Which somehow made it worse, because it made him paranoid that he was imagining it all...

But that didn't stop him from getting caught in the memory. Prompted by whispers and the remains of his dream-

He hadn’t meant to. He hadn’t. He had never wanted to hurt her, the lovely girl that she was. All long limbs, parted dark hair and wide eyes. He knew that all Uchiha women carried a certain kind of beauty, but Sara had been particularly stunning.

“Sara…”

This one came out closer to a moan, and Kizashi couldn’t help wincing. He was so tired, anxious, remembering. He had tried to be gentle. He wanted her to enjoy it. Couldn’t help enjoying it himself, even despite her drunken murmurs of pain and angst. She was so lovely.

“Sara…”

This time a guttural grunt, so out of place in the voice of his five-year-old daughter. Disgust filled him. And then shame fell like a weight in his limbs as he remembered what happened next. The other boys wanted their turn. And the last one had been particularly brutal. He hadn’t realized until then that what they were doing was wrong. It hadn’t seemed like a big deal. But then suddenly she screamed as he tore into her, and Kizashi realized the truth with a growing sense of horror.

“Sara!”

He jumped up and hurried to his daughter’s room, overcome with anxiety and desperate for answers. How did she know? What was this? Why now?

He pushed open the cracked door impatiently, and barely stopped himself from interrogating her after he realized that his daughter was perfectly still, sleeping soundly on her little bed. He waited. After five minutes he determined she was actually asleep, after ten he began to question her involvement with the whispers. And after twenty minutes of silence he began to question his sanity.

But he was determined. There was only one way to verify for sure without accidentally introducing the topic to his impressionable daughter (whom, he decided, could still be completely ignorant). And thus, he threw himself into his account books and waited with trepidation for the following evening.

He fell asleep waiting for her to dream. Sitting with his knees drawn up, his back against the wall in the hallway opposite of her room. Sakura didn’t question his presence, gifting him a small, silent kiss on his cheek goodnight, before crawling under the covers. He tried to watch her unobtrusively. But he was too tired.

“Sara…”

His dreams twisted, and suddenly he was gently rocking into the petite girl, stroking her head softly. Someone yelled from the background.

“Stop making love to her and fuck her already, you fucking pussy!”

He ignored him. Stupid Akira obviously didn’t know jack shit about pleasuring a woman. He looked up into her dark eyes, and grinned stupidly, before realizing they were suddenly changing colors. The irises turned green. And the long, sweeping dark locks shortened and turned blonde, and there was a gaping, bloody hole in her chest, and Mebuki’s gaze was condemning- “How could you Kizashi. How could you-”

He gasped awake, and stared at his daughter on her little bed, breathing soft, little breaths. He felt somehow desperate that she might whisper the name, if only to confirm that the name had appeared somewhere other than _inside of his head_ … but she was silent for the rest of the night.

The next two nights proceeded in much the same way, and the lack of sleep was beginning to affect other things beside his memory and his temper. His rationale was beginning to slide, and suddenly paranoia was as familiar as his pillow had once been. He began to see the girl weighing on his conscious, even though he knew intellectually that she had committed suicide years ago. He started to hate going to the market, if just because there seemed to be Uchiha fucking everywhere, and it was too fucking easy to see her face in theirs…

So he resisted going. And it barely registered that his daughter never complained, that she was okay eating convenience store rice balls and stale sandwiches day in and day out for a week… It barely registered that she had begun to leave a pillow and blanket on the floor in the hallway across from her room so that he would be able to have some semblance of comfort. It barely registered that she had somehow figured out how to make coffee, and presented him with a mug of the liquid solemnly every morning.

Because one night he finally heard it.

“Sara…”

And he tore into her. Stomped into her room and shook her awake, and demanded to know where she had heard that name.

Her response was small and scared. “You whisper it in your sleep sometimes, Papa.”

He was more than upset. She had said it first, he knew it, he had _fucking_ heard her- “You are lying. Don’t fucking lie to me. Where did you hear it?”

She was beginning to cry. “In dreams, Papa, I’m not lying.”

Kizashi was not to be dissuaded. “What are you seeing in these dreams?”

She kept crying and refused to answer.

“Who fucking told you? Was it Akira? I know he went with you and your mom to Sunagakure. Did he say something, Sakura?”

She was shaking her head no, her small body trembling, tears falling down her cheeks.

“He did, didn’t he? What did he say? I didn’t hurt her, Sakura. I didn’t. Akira was the one that slammed into her like she was a fucking whore-”

His daughter’s small mouth turned down in confusion, and she stared up at him through wide teary eyes. “But she was crying, Papa.”

“She wasn’t. She liked it. She smiled. I swear she did. She wasn’t crying. You’re lying.”

Sakura was just shaking her head no, and Kizashi felt his sanity completely slip away as he grasped the knife- kunai- she kept under her pillow. “Don’t lie to me!” He brandished it in front of her like the weapon it was, and she cowered away.

“Please, Papa-“

He cut her shoulder. It was an accident, really, and Kizashi watched the blood pool and fall into her pajamas in silence for a few moments before the reality of the situation kicked in.

Fuck.

What was he doing? What had he done? What was he going to do?

Shit.

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t fucking do it.

He had tried. For Mebuki, he had tried. To live without her, to parent their daughter, to keep running their business… He had tried so fucking hard. But he couldn’t do it anymore. It was impossible… why was she everywhere? Why couldn’t he stop seeing her? Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her? How did it get to the point where he injured his baby girl, even if it had been an accident?

He couldn’t live with it, he decided. The guilt, the shame, the pain. For so many reasons. And he was so fucking tired. He couldn’t-

He looked at his daughter, who was still staring at him with wide eyes, shaking like a leaf.

“I’m sorry Sakura.”

And it was so easy to draw the blade across his throat. So easy to sink into the warmth. So easy to let go.

* * *

To be continued...


	4. Ain't No Business But My Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we get into the actual plot. Let me know if you think Kakashi is too OOC. I tried really hard to keep him in character.
> 
> And there goes my attempts at short chapters...

**Chapter 4: Ain't No Business But My Own**

* * *

 

“No pain that we suffer, no trial that we experience is wasted. It ministers to our education, to the development of such qualities as patience, faith, fortitude and humility. All that we suffer and all that we endure, especially when we endure it patiently, builds up our characters, purifies our hearts, expands our souls, and makes us more tender and charitable, more worthy to be called the children of God . . . and it is through sorrow and suffering, toil and tribulation, that we gain the education that we come here to acquire and which will make us more like our Father and Mother in heaven.”

― Orson F. Whitney

* * *

 

Kakashi stood in front of the Memorial Stone, absentmindedly fingering his Icha Icha while trying to remember what food was left in his fridge. Was there enough that he could throw together some semblance of a meal? He was pretty sure there might be an egg or two, and maybe an onion? He was less sure there was rice.

Maybe he could get someone to buy dinner for him? Although it was pretty late at night… Maybe appetizers innocently ordered with some drinks? He tried to remember who was still in the village. Asuma was gone, Kurenai was probably asleep, Genma had just recently left on a mission… He owed Raidou too much to get one over him…. He might have to settle for stale convenience-store food.

Sigh.

Huh. There was a full moon tonight. That’s nice.

Then he heard someone stumble noisily a few feet away from him, and Kakashi cocked his head curiously in the direction of the sound.

It was a small person. A very small person that, from the light of the night, Kakashi could see was splattered with something dark. And it took only one step in their direction before the sharp, metallic smell of blood swept over him, and Kakashi stilled reflexively. He withdrew a kunai almost absentmindedly, eyeing the small form.

But the child was not moving towards him, or even looking in his direction. The small girl (if he was to guess based on length of her bob and the style of her nightwear) ambled past him shivering. He took another few steps in her direction, and was able to hear her soft sobs.

What was going on? Should he confront her?

But that sounded like trouble.

Hm.

Kakashi was not the type of guy to intrude on other people’s problems unnecessarily. But morbid curiosity prompted him to follow after her as she made her way through the Third Training Ground towards the cemetery. And he supposed he did kind of have a responsibility as a Konoha-nin to investigate something so suspicious… after all this could be anything from domestic assault, to an attack from a foreign-nin.

Sigh.

He followed after her, inwardly deliberating on how to approach her, when she finally stopped in front of a grave and broke down entirely.

Kakashi noted that the grave was fairly new, before he took another step in her direction. She whirled around the face him, and Kakashi paused cautiously as he registered the expression on her face, a strange mixture of defiance and absolute terror. Her watery green eyes shone especially bright in the light of moon, surrounded by dark dried blood.

Kakashi frowned. “What happened?”

Tears streamed down her cheeks and she held her hands defensively in front of her chest, fingers curled as if ghosting a blade. A very familiar action for shinobi suffering post-traumatic stress disorder. But he doubted very much that she was old enough or experienced enough to develop that tic naturally.

Huh.

She stayed silent, and Kakashi frowned. Children in the village were indoctrinated to put faith in their village’s shinobi. By the time they could talk, they were trained to trust shinobi enough to report about anything of importance, regardless of personal involvement. The fact that his clearly displayed hitai-ate didn’t put her at ease spoke poorly of the situation.

He tried a different tactic.

“What is your name?”

No response.

He looked around the girl’s small frame at the date’s printed on the grave stone, and made an educated guess. “Is that your mother, Haruno-san?”

The girl frowned, still shaking slightly. But her voice was sure. “It used to be.”

“And where is your father?”

The girl’s shaking worsened. “Dead.” The way she looked at her sopping, red nightgown was subtle, but obvious enough for a seasoned shinobi like Kakashi to connect the dots.

“Is that his blood?”

She nodded reluctantly, digging the heel of her palms into watery eyes with obvious grief and anxiety.

“How?”

By the way she looked at him, he could tell she was intelligent enough to understand the implications of his question. “He killed himself.”

Kakashi froze, and nonchalantly looked away from too green eyes, busy trying to push away his own memories with no small amount of desperation. The image of his father lying prostrate on the floor of their home, his own taste of misery and fear bitter in his mouth… Now that he had a better look at her, he guessed that he was probably about the same age as her when it happened.

Fuck. Now he felt something a lot stronger than some abstract village-related obligation to help her out.

Another step towards her in order to investigate a strange bruise on the side of her face, and she froze and flung herself backwards defensively all over again.

“Where did you get that?”

The curl of her lip downwards was somehow both a snarl and an expression of terror. “Bad-nin hide in the dark.”

She had apparently run into some less than savory characters on her way here.

Double fuck.

He ran his hand through his hair in a distressed, exasperated sort of way, trying to determine the next appropriate course of action (should he investigate her house himself or track down a police officer?). She interrupted his internal musings with a question of her own.

“Who are you?”

Kakashi gave her a wide grin. “Hatake Kakashi.”

The way she gave the false crinkle in his eye a hard look made it obvious that she wasn’t buying into his cheerful charade.

Oh well. He had tried.

Moving on-

“Why did you come here?”

Why didn’t she track down the authorities? He knew that several Uchiha in the Konoha Police Force did periodic sweeps through the civilian quarters at night. They wouldn’t have been too hard to find. Although if the issues he had observed her having with authority figures held true…

The girl gestured to the grave. “She needed to know.”

Ah.

Considering how often he visited the Memorial Stone for just that purpose (it somehow made him feel better to inform Obito about the shenanigans in his life), he knew he was in a special position to empathize with her situation. So he nodded grimly, and was surprised to see the girl relax minutely as a result.

“You were talking to the grave too?”

So she did notice him at the Memorial Stone? Interesting.

“Ah.”

And she relaxed even further.

“And you didn’t hide after you saw me.”

Kakashi nodded, feeling bemused. “Why would I hide?”

The girl nodded sagely. “You are not a bad-nin,” she stated confidently, before relaxing almost completely and taking those few steps needed to bridge the gap between them. “Will you come to my house? I’m not sure how to arrange a funeral.”

Kakashi felt himself tense again, lost briefly in memories he really didn’t want to revisit. “Don’t you have any other family that could help?”

She was no longer relaxed. “No.”

An orphan with no support. Another thing they had in common. Fantastic.

“Oh. Well then. Lead the way.”

He tried not to flinch when she reached for his hand, and failed miserably. She ignored his reaction and grasped onto his palm anyways. Her grip was sticky, and he tried not to think about why that was.

They made their way silently through Konoha, as Kakashi attempted to plan out his next few hours. He also tried to ignore the metallic tang of blood that permeated generously from the small girl leading him efficiently through a civilian neighborhood. He was very nearly successful.

It was a small matter to flag down a police officer, briefly explain the situation (ignoring the way her hands tightened dramatically every time she looked at the Uchiha), and prompt the girl to lead them to her empty home.

The scene, when they arrived, was not at all what he had expected. His father had committed suicide privately, leaving Kakashi to stumble on his cooling body several hours after the fact. The position of the girl’s father’s body (slumped awkwardly over a small, drenched toddler bed), and the angle of the blood flow (and the fact that she was completely covered in it), made it obvious that the man had slit his throat directly in front of the girl while she was still in bed.

He and the Uchiha briefly (privately) considered the possibility that she had been the one to slit his throat, but there were several strong indicators that pointed to the contrary. The angle of the cut, from her height, would have been almost vertical, but the cut into the jugular was made horizontally (which demonstrated that it was made completely perpendicular to the throat, an impossible height for her to reach, even standing on the small bed). The strong grip he maintained around the kunai handle, maintained as rigor mortis set in, was another large indicator (which would have been very difficult to successfully plant, especially for a very young civilian girl he assumed had no experience staging murders). And finally, her strong emotional breakdown. First were the tears, which progressed to sobs, and then uncontrollable shaking…

In fact, her distress and suffering was painfully genuine, and Kakashi watched the girl wrap her arms tightly around her legs as if forcefully attempting to physically keep herself together. He was uncomfortably familiar with that position.

Normally, this matter would have been fairly straight-forward. Intervention by the police, a timely funeral, and then Sakura would be deposited in Konoha’s infamous orphanage. However, the Uchiha explained that she was an unusual case. Apparently the manner of her mother’s death as well as the girl’s survival was strange enough to merit further investigation, and thus she would need to be medically evaluated and taken in front of the Hokage.

However, the Hokage was not currently available. Not surprising, considering his age and the time of night. So the necessary visit would have to wait until tomorrow, and he and the police office argued briefly about where to put the girl for the night. She decided for them by latching onto the masked shinobi and refusing to let go.

He eventually promised to bring the girl back to his apartment in exchange for her hurried assistance in packing an overnight bag. She readily complied, quickly stuffing a small backpack with a small outfit, a pair of sandals, and a nightgown into the bag. She also hurried over to her bed and grabbed a stuffed dog that had miraculously escaped the bloodbath.

When she made to grab the kunai from her father’s hands, Kakashi stopped her.

“What are you doing?”

She pointed at blade. “That is mine.”

Kakashi frowned. “Yours? Where did you get it?”

“Sarutobi-san gave it to me.”

Well, that was a rather important nugget of information that he would have to follow through with at a later date.

“And how did your father get ahold of it?”

“He grabbed it from underneath my pillow.”

Kakashi stared. He had never heard of a civilian child going to bed with weapons before. Or a child from a shinobi clan, even, before they were at least genin. Before they had tasted the brutality and panic of war. “And why do you need it?”

The girl grimaced, and a stark look of pain, fear, and desperation that was completely inappropriate on so young a face overcame her features. “To protect me from the bad-nin.” Suddenly her gaze grew fierce, and she looked Kakashi directly in the eye. “I accidentally forgot it here when I left earlier. That’s why the bad-nin were able to attack.”

Kakashi frowned again, obviously disagreeing with her assessment, but... “It would make you feel better?”

The girl nodded enthusiastically. Still frowning, Kakashi reached into his weapons pouch and withdrew a kunai. “Then here, you can have this one. That kunai needs to stay there. Evidence.”

That explanation seemed to be enough for her, as she nodded grimly, before accepting his weapon with obvious gratitude. And then Kakashi carefully observed the way she gripped the handle and brought the blade to her chest in a way that spoke of easy familiarity.

Huh.

Kakashi remembered to stop at a convenience store on the way home and asked if she was hungry. It took her all of two seconds to nab a favorite flavor of onigiri from a shelf in the back. Kakashi frowned again as he grabbed his own rice ball. Did her father not feed her at home?

And then they were at his apartment, and they made quick work of the ready-made food. And then he was drawing up a bath with a great deal of unease. “Can you bathe yourself?”

The look she shot him was so ‘affronted female’ that Kakashi couldn’t help but smile. He ruffled her hair absentminded, and closed the bathroom door as he made his way to his poor excuse of a linen closet. He would just grab a pillow from his bed, but he was sure he had an extra blanket _not_ covered in dog hair, somewhere…

Hm. Guess not. Hopefully she wasn’t allergic.

Before long he heard the drain in the tub, and was oddly thankful that he wouldn’t have to see the bloodied water. And then she was clean and standing before him, and Kakashi was briefly surprised to see that she had pink hair. Pink. With her wide eyes, it was disturbingly adorable. Then she carefully led him through the process of tucking her in as if she were the adult, and she kissed his cheek somewhat anxiously, before settling into the couch carefully wrapped in cloth and clutching her stuffed dog.

He stared at the thing for a moment, trying to remember if he ever had a stuffed anything. He gestured to it. “Who is that?”

The way she was looking up at him almost looked like a pout, but then there was a small smile. “Kei-kun.”

Lucky? Considering how little blood got on the animal compared to the rest of the bed, Kakashi had to agree with the name.

“Well then. Goodnight Kei-kun. Goodnight-”

He stopped when he realized he still had no idea what her name was. And she probably didn’t want to hear her surname. He knew he hadn’t in her place.

Shit.

“Sakura.”

Kakashi looked at her. How unimaginative, given her coloring. But still pretty, he supposed. “Good night Sakura-chan.”

Another real smile that Kakashi couldn’t help responding to, before he sequestered himself away in his bedroom.

It was a little more difficult for him to get to sleep that night than usual, but that was to be expected considering the circumstances. And then his dreams were a frivolous montage of him acting out all of his late excuses, and he was inwardly wondering about the bother of it all when a scream pierced the night and he was out of bed holding a weapon before he took his next breath.

He crept to his living room with no small amount of trepidation, but was oddly anxious to see the small body writhing on his couch, the blanket caught and pulling on her small frame.

And then she was crying out- “Please, come back, I didn’t mean to-”

And then Kakashi was gently shaking her awake.

She took huge, desperate gasping breaths, and then realized he was standing over her. Her expression turned to one of such shame and suffering that Kakashi found himself sitting on the ground beside her before he quite realized what he was doing.

“What’s wrong?”

It took her a few solid moments to reply.

“I have bad dreams.”

He tried to smile, but fucking half-buried memories invaded again and so it came out as more of a grimace. “Everyone has nightmares, Sakura-chan.”

She shook her head adamantly. “No. My dreams are bad for people around me.”

He felt his head cock curiously to the side. “What do you mean?”

She started to cry, and the anxiety in Kakashi’s chest began to build at the sight and sound. “It was my fault Papa died. It was. I dreamed and he remembered his pain.”

“His pain?”

“Sara.” She said the name through a cracked whisper.

He remembered sinking into the same pool of self-blame when he had been in her situation, and felt himself grimace. But he should at least make an attempt to reassure her- “I’m sure it wasn’t your fault-”

She interrupted him. “I wasn’t supposed to know. I’m not supposed to know. But I dream about lots of people, and so I know. Lots a’ pain. Lots a’ death.” She started to murmur through tears towards the end of her statement.

“What do you dream about?”

She looked at him, and her gaze was intense. “Rin-chan.”

Kakashi froze, and then very slowly, too consciously, unclenched his fists.

“Where did you hear that name?”

She recognized the state of his body, and curled herself defensively into the couch. “I had a dream ‘bout it. Just now.”

“But you must have heard it before now?”

She shook her head, shoving herself further away from him and into his couch. “I dreamed it. I did. I promise.” She stopped to look at him, and the look on her face was devastated. “Are you going to hurt me too?”

Kakashi felt his forearms tense all over again as he mentally cursed inside of his head. He forced out a breath. “Of course not.”

She didn’t relax until he had scooted back a few inches away from the couch.

“So you had a dream?”

She nodded reluctantly. “’Bout the man on the floor. And the boy under the boulder. And the lightning.” She bit into her bottom lip and whispered, “Not your fault.”

To say that Kakashi was feeling overwhelmed would be an understatement. The tenseness in his limbs was so tight at this point that he was sure he could shushin across the village from the tension alone. But he bit down his anxiety and guilt and self-pity with cold familiarity.

Still, the implications...

“And you dream about other people? How often?”

She just nodded, before clutching Kei more closely to her chest. He saw a quick flash of metal from what little light was left in the apartment, and realized she also had his kunai clutched anxiously in her right hand. “All the time.”

Kakashi let out an aggravated sigh, hoping to release some tension. It did, a little. “When did this start?”

“After Mama’s death.”

Perhaps this could be a part of the mysterious investigation going on in regards to the girl’s survival?

She continued to speak. “It hurts. It hurts so much.” And then the tears came tumbling down her cheeks in a torrent, and Kakashi was emotionally torn for a whole other slew of reasons.

“Why does it hurt?”

“’Cause I can feel their pain.”

So she experienced these dreams from their perspective? Or was she channeling their pain as an empath? Kakashi rubbed his bare hands together, which felt oddly cold outside of his gloves. He tried to think, but he was having a hard time of it. “Why- why did you tell me?”

Still crying, her eyes looked impossibly wide. “I don’t want you to die.” Like Papa was clearly implied.

Well, fuck. What was he supposed to do now?

“Who else might know?”

Another anxious nibble on her bottom lip. “Sarutobi-san. But he left.”

She must mean Asuma. And he hadn’t said anything? Huh. Maybe she didn’t tell him the extent of it?

“Do you dream about people you have never met?”

She seemed to understand what he was asking, despite the awkward phrasing. “Only people I’ve met.”

Well that was something. “And you’ve met a lot of people?”

Her face suddenly appeared terribly withdrawn, aided by the deep circles under her eyes, as she nodded. She looked far older than her age would imply, and the image was bringing up some rather unfortunate memories of the war. 

It was too much. He needed a reprieve. A chance to ground himself.

“Well, you need more sleep. Can you try? I’ll stay here and wake you up if it sounds too frightening.”

Her teary smile was unfortunately tumultuous, and Kakashi felt strangely guilty as he went to fix himself a mug of tea while he waited out the early morning. Rereading the latest Icha Icha volume sounded like an excellent way to spend his time. So much better than remembering and thinking about things he would really rather put off until a later date…

She only lasted an hour the first time before the screams started, and then two the next. And they were not the soft cries of the innocent, rather desperate, painful keens of misery that threatened to burn into his soul.

He couldn’t help but think about the implications. The orphanage would never accept her like this. No one would be able to sleep, and she would find herself kicked out into the street without so much as a by-your-leave. And if she was telling the truth; he had been a shinobi in this village for almost fifteen years, and had participated in every sector it had to offer (no matter how dark and despoiled). He knew exactly how the village could take advantage of this ‘gift’ of hers. Infiltration and interrogation was the first thing to come to mind, but he knew he couldn’t discount Danzou’s creativity.

So what should he do? Was he willing to accept her as his responsibility? And if not, where could she go?

The next time she woke up she was crying. “It’s not workin’.”

He had an idea, looking at poor, dilapidated Kei, and after a quick bite to his thumb summoned his ninkin. He introduced each to the other, and then his plan of attack. Pakkun looked at him like he was an idiot. “There’s not enough room to cuddle on the couch, Kakashi. Come on girl, let’s go lay down on the bed.”

But anxious with the unfamiliarity of the situation, Sakura grabbed ahold of his sleeve with a surprisingly strong grip, and the two were swept away into the bedroom. Bull was helpful enough to fetch the pillow from the couch, and before he knew it, he was lying on his bed squished on all sides by a small pink-haired girl and a small pack of ninken. Uncomfortable wasn’t even the half of it.

But then the tired girl quickly faded off into slumber, and Pakkun demanded a head rub, and the soft sounds of breathing, and the warmth, and the familiar action helped him fall asleep too…

Breakfast was less awkward than he thought it would be. Sakura was so cheerful that she was able to sleep without dreaming of blood that she fairly danced around the kitchen, making them both tea and rolled omelets (made resourcefully from the last, remaining ingredients in his fridge, but still somehow (surprisingly) delicious). He noted her proficiency with the frying pan with another pain of remembrance, and nearly growled at himself as weary resignation settled over him. He had a feeling he knew exactly how the rest of the day would play out, and tried not to think about it.

They made their way into the Hokage tower, and Kakashi was surprised to see the girl tense. After the doors to the Sandaime’s office closed behind him, that tenseness became full-blown paranoia as she settled into a crouch and held the kunai in front of her defensively. Kakashi and the Hokage both watched curiously as she cast her eyes around for a potential exit, quickly locating the seals pinned to the windows, and then spun to pick out all of the ANBU guard hidden from view inside and outside of the office. She apparently pinpointed one ANBU in particular she thought was the most threatening, and pivoted herself between them and the other two men.

“Sakura-chan?”

She spared him a quick glance, and Kakashi frowned to see that she was shaking slightly. “Bad-nin hide in the dark,” she reiterated darkly.

The Hokage was more than curious. “You think they mean you harm?”

Sakura looked back at him in surprise with wide, terrified eyes. “Why else are they hiding?”

His voice was gentle. “They are here to protect me, Sakura-chan.”

Her gaze was almost accusing. “By hiding?”

The old man gave her a crooked smile. “An element of surprise against potential foes.”

She frowned as if attempting to see the logic, before gradually lowering her kunai. The older man turned his attention to him.

“Kakashi-kun?”

He turned to the Hokage after running an anxious hand through his hair. She was certainly making it difficult for him to ensure she was not noticed by certain people of interest. Little girls shouldn’t be able to locate ANBU when their chakra was cloaked. “There has been an incident. Sakura-chan’s father committed suicide, and a patrolling Uchiha informed me that her situation was under observation.”

The old man’s face was filled with grim acceptance as he nodded. “Has she been evaluated yet?”

“No, but I am a little concerned about her future living situation. I thought I would address that before your morning appointments.”

“Oh? What reason do you have to be concerned?”

Kakashi grimaced. “Very bad night terrors. I’m afraid she will have difficulties staying at the orphanage.”

The Hokage made a verbal noise of intrigue, and Kakashi followed his line of vision to see Sakura pinpointing the location of all of the seals in the room with nervous trepidation. The Sandaime’s head tilted curiously. “Is she a sensor?”

Kakashi frowned. “I’m not sure?”

The old man made a noise of consideration. “Perhaps we should find out,” he stated, before gesturing to the girl. “Sakura-chan, how would you like to go to the Academy and study to become a ninja?”

The small girl frowned, considered the possibility with a serious maturity that was almost humorous on her small face, and then nodded solemnly. “That’s where Ino-chan is,” she stated reasonably.

“You know Inoichi’s daughter?”

Sakura gave him a blank look. “Ino-chan is my friend.”

The Hokage smiled, encouraged. “I’m glad to hear that, Sakura-chan. It’s important to have friends in times like this. But there is something else we should discuss. Do you have anyone you can stay with?”

Sakura’s small body became tense and anxious, and she started fidgeting.

“Sakura-chan?”

Another few moments of silence, and then- “Can I stay with Kakashi-san?”

The Hokage looked at him in surprise. And then back at her. “Can I ask why?”

The girl suddenly smiled at him in a way that made him feel more than uncomfortable, and fairly chirped, “He helped me sleep. And he understands my situation.”

Kakashi immediately understood the insinuation.

The Sandaime nodded sagely. “I can imagine he does. Well Kakashi-kun? How do you feel about that?”

He had considered that this might happen, while he was pondering her situation in the early morning hours. But hearing it verbally affirmed sent panic through his limbs. He was rather sure he couldn’t be trusted with her life. Based on a precedent built of consistent past failed experiences. “Maa, are you sure that’s the best option?”

He had been hoping that the Hokage might have something up his sleeve.

The Sandaime gave him a long look. “Considering?”

It did not take long for Kakashi to find an appropriate excuse. “Considering I am in ANBU, and sometimes engage in missions that can take weeks at a time?”

The Sandaime gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Luckily I have an in with the man responsible for assigning missions. I’m sure I can convince him not to assign you any that are too long.”

Kakashi frowned again. Sarcasm from the Hokage at this time in the morning was usually a terrible sign. “What exactly would this entail?”

“Guardianship. Lodging, meals, and paperwork at the very least.”

And then Kakashi made the mistake of looking Sakura in the eyes. Her fear and desperate hope got to him.

Fuckity fuck fuck.

As much as he would love to argue further, those brief moments of empathy he shared with the child last night was enough to at least establish a baseline of protectiveness and an interest in her wellbeing. And considering all of those small observations he noticed that spoke of prior neglect that she had failed to mention to anyone… And considering that, given the uniqueness of her situation, especially if she was going to be trained as a shinobi, she would need guidance and protection from some of Konoha’s darker forces…

But he convinced himself that he was actually considering it, mostly, because he hadn’t worked out a better option.

“You will, of course, be compensated for your time and effort.” The Hokage added this as if it could be the straw to break the camel’s back, and Kakashi had to resist scoffing. Just because he enjoyed existing as a free-loader did not mean he much cared about money….

Still, better to seem reluctant.

“Fine.”

The Hokage grinned another false grin. “Excellent! Well then, Sakura-chan, Kakashi-kun is hereby your official guardian. And it seems the both of you have few visits to make. I hope you enjoy your time at the Academy.”

The girl looked rather excited to hear that, nodding affirmatively to that last statement, but Kakashi felt dread begin to pool in his stomach. Despite the fact that this had been his decision.

They bowed and existed the office, but Kakashi barely noticed.

His entire life was about to change. His comfortable, solitary, bachelor life. And considering the girl’s situation, probably not for the better. No longer would he be allowed to maintain certain aspects of his current lifestyle (he mentally lamented the loss of binge drinking and the occasional one-night stand). He would need to actually shop for groceries, and be home after she got out of the Academy, and make sure she was able to sleep… The responsibility of it all made him more than a little afraid and unbelievably nervous.

He tried to distract himself with a to-do list. Keep himself in the present, rather than become overwhelmed by potential future circumstances. They would need to visit her house for her things, go to the hospital, the academy, go shopping for groceries and other little girl necessities… Organize her father’s funeral...

Fuck, what was he going to do?

His anxiety was interrupted by a small hand clutching his, thankfully not sticky with blood, and Kakashi was surprised to feel how much the weight grounded him. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered, as if after everything, he was the one in need of reassurance.

Kakashi snorted in self-deprecation.

And then tugged her forward with a new drive. He could always sink into a pool of despair at his situation later. And fuck the to-do list, he would get to everything eventually. Now actually sounded like a rather good time to eat. And he was sure he could get Kurenai to pay for it, after she heard about the _horrible_ situation that was last night, and saw Sakura-chan’s pretty, pleading green eyes…

Kakashi grinned. Now there was an idea.

 

* * *

 

To be continued…


	5. Out of the Mouth of Babes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakura POV

**Chapter 5: Out of the Mouth of Babes**

* * *

“When you feel someone else's pain and joy as powerfully as if it were your own, then you know you really loved them.”

― Ann Brashares

* * *

 

Living with Kakashi-san was really nice. He helped her sleep, and let her pet and snuggle his ninken whenever she wanted (Sakura had always wanted a dog, and now she had 8!). He didn’t waste time giving her empty words that didn’t change anything, like the stupid ladies at the market. But most of all, he seemed to pay attention to her. In a way her father hadn’t. He didn’t need to set an alarm, because he could tell that she was hungry based on the grumbling in her stomach, and he could tell she needed a bath because he noticed the light dusting of dirt streaked on her forearms, and he could tell when she was tired enough to sleep because she would yawn really big and start to act a little silly.

Being the focus of his attention was really, really nice.

And it didn’t matter that they didn’t always have food in the house, because he made getting every meal an adventure. And it didn’t matter that he wasn’t very good at brushing and braiding her hair, because he was patient enough to practice plaiting and got better. And it didn’t matter that he never read her any bedtime stories, because sometimes he would take her out around the village and showed her his favorite places, and talked about them.

And it didn’t matter that he always seemed to be reading that small orange book, because Sakura could tell that he was really paying attention.

He was her new favorite person, and Sakura was desperate to protect him. So far no bad-nin had attacked, but Sakura was determined to remain vigilant. (Which was a brand new word he taught her- wasn’t he great?). Unfortunately, though, the dreams had made it clear that he felt very guilty about his past. Guilt was an emotion that Sakura had only a little bit of experience with, but she knew enough to understand the knots in his stomach, and wanted to make him feel better. Like she did after Mama kissed her owies when she was little.

So she tried to act like Ino-chan had when her blonde friend saved her from the bullies. She corrected stupid adults when they made dumb comments about ‘adopting a pink shadow’, and made sure to hold his hand sometimes when they were walking. She figured out how to make his favorite tea, convinced him to let her brush his crazy hair, and made sure to give him some time to himself when she could tell everything seemed to be too much.

Because she got like that too. When she felt like her skin was crawling with bugs, and she couldn’t help but jump at every noise, and she couldn’t seem to get the specks of blood out from under her fingernails-  remembering the way everyone screamed…

Sakura wasn’t entirely sure what Kakashi-san did when he was alone, but she liked to watch clouds. She would lay down on the ground and stare at the sky, and let herself sink into the blue as she busied herself picking out white puffs.

She appreciated that Kakashi-san seemed to understand that she needed alone-time too. After all, she was already five. Hardly a baby anymore.

But then she was finally registered for the academy, and she was not prepared for such a rough transition.

Sakura was more than a little apprehensive to attend the academy. As excited as she was to go to school with Ino-chan, she didn’t want to leave her new favorite person. What if something happened to him when she wasn’t around to watch him? But Kakashi-san insisted, and seemed to be able to tell she was reluctant, because he let her bring her kunai and came with her into the classroom.

Kakashi-san nudged her towards an open seat and went to the front to speak to the teacher, and Sakura grasped the kunai with more than just nervousness. Because she had finally gotten a glimpse of her classmates and was very afraid to find herself in a room full of shadows.

She could feel people’s pain now when she was walking around the village. It wasn’t like the dreams- she couldn’t tell why just _looking_ at them- but she could feel the degree of… suffering. Another big word she sometimes heard grown-ups use, but she was pretty sure she understood what it meant. For grown-ups, it was usually things that had happened, and their bodies pulsed with their remembered hurt, especially when they were hiding. But in kids? It was like a shadow you almost couldn’t see, the _potential_ for future suffering that wrapped around their bodies and threatened to squeeze…

And this room? These people? _So_ much pain to come. It actually hurt her just looking at it.

But then someone was shaking her shoulder, and she hissed back a cry, and the classroom came into focus.

Kakashi-san had been speaking with the nice looking teacher, and she had been absentmindedly hearing snippets like “she has recently come out of a series of traumatic episodes, so expect symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder” and “don’t mind the kunai, she’s never actually used it, holding it just makes her feel safe”. But after she hissed, her person left the front and came right up to her.

“Sakura-chan?”

And then she heard Ino-chan mumble, “B-blood,” and looked over to see that the scab from the cut on her shoulder had opened again and Ino-chan’s fingers were red.

Oh no. She had been trying so hard to make sure he didn’t find out. Papa had hated it when she got hurt, and annoyed, waved his hand towards the bathroom so she could find Band-Aids. But then he would forget, and be too busy to help, and she had to figure out how to do it herself (the many wasted Band-Aids in the bin the only testament to her struggle)…

But the feeling that getting hurt was annoying to grown-ups stayed, and she didn’t want to bother Kakashi-san.

And this feeling seemed to hold true, because he was frowning again. “Sakura-chan? Why are you bleeding?”

And then she was frowning too, because she had failed. “Papa cut me with the kunai.”

“And?” He always seemed to know when there was more to the story.

“And I hid it. I borrowed Band-aids from your bathroom.”

“Bandages,” he corrected through a mumble, before carefully prodding her arm. She was proud to say she barely hissed.

“Why did you hide it?”

A pause, and she pouted, “I didn’t want to bother you. But it’s okay, Kakashi-san. I’m okay.”

The look he gave her as he searched her face was serious, but he slowly nodded. “Alright, Sakura-chan. I’m sure there is someone here at the Academy that can help you wrap it. I’ll come pick you up after class is over, ne?”

Sakura nodded, and gave him her bestest, biggest smile because she felt terrible, which he returned with a hair ruffle. And then he was gone.

Ino-chan was confused. “Sakura-chan?”

She should make her friend feel better. “It’s okay, Ino-chan. It doesn’t hurt that bad. I’m sorry ‘bout the blood.”

But the blonde girl just shook her head, and gave her a small smile as she reached into her bag. “That’s okay Sakura-chan. Mama always makes me pack wet wipes.”

Then the teacher spoke up. “Do you need to go to the nurse right now Sakura-chan? Or can you wait until lunch?”

Sakura was sure. “I can wait.” This pain was nothing.

“Alright then, sit down there between Ino-chan and Shikamaru-kun.”

Sakura sat down, smiled at Ino-chan, and then turned to look at the boy next to her curiously. His dark brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and his eyes were strangely sharp. He returned her look with a considering glance, which stopped for a few moments at her kunai before eventually settling on her pink hair. And then he huffed. _Her_ eyes narrowed. Whatever that sound had meant, she doubted it was very nice.

“Is there something wrong with my hair?”

“It’s pink.” He said it as if that was all he needed to say.

“So?”

“Who has pink hair?”

“I do. Obviously.” She drawled out that last word like she had heard Kakashi-san do a couple of times.

“Well it’s a stupid color for a kunoichi. You stand out too much.”

“It’s darker than blonde. And there are three blondes in the room. Do they stand out too much, too?”

“It’s better than pink.”

“Why?”

“Because pink’s unusual? And it’s so… girly.”

“So? I _am_ a girl.”

“I know.” He gave her a hard look. “But it makes you look even weaker.”

Sakura’s defensiveness was growing. “You think I’m weak?”

That look was back, the one that said ‘duh, obviously’ without him needing to actually say anything.

Sakura’s frown deepened. “I’m not weak.” At least, she didn’t think so? All she knew for sure was that she didn’t want to be. She had to be strong to protect Kakashi-san.

“Tch. Yeah right.”

Ino-chan interrupted, “Shika-kun, stop being mean to Sakura-chan.”

The small boy looked at his friend with a frown. “I’m not being mean, I’m just telling the truth.”

“No, you’re being mean! Her hair is cute, Shika-kun.”

The boy pouted at his friend, and Sakura couldn’t help but notice how it changed his face, making his cheeks look more rounded. “I didn’t say it wasn’t cute, Ino. But it makes her look weak.”

Ino-chan ignored that last statement, turning to her triumphantly. “See Sakura-chan? He thinks your hair is cute. That’s what he meant to say.”

Shikamaru’s face turned red, and he looked away from both girls grumbling a word that sounded like “Troublesome…”

“Children?” They all looked up at the teacher that had interrupted them, who pointed at the board. “Pay attention. The shinobi rules are important.”

Sakura was curious to see the boy huff again, before he laid his head down on the table in front of him and started dozing. Ino-chan rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind him, Sakura-chan. He’s just bored. He learned the shinobi rules _ages_ ago.”

The lesson was interesting, but by the end Sakura felt she could relate a little bit to the boy beside her. They weren’t very hard to remember.

But then they were encouraged to go outside to practice kata, and Sakura had no idea what she was doing. She tried copying the movements, but they were too fast for her to get the right stance _and_ the right movement of her hands and feet. Shikamaru noticed and gave her a smug smile, and Sakura could feel her fingers get tight in frustration.

The teacher sounded surprised when he saw what was going on, and pulled her aside. “Sakura-chan? Didn’t Hatake-san teach you any of the kata?”

Sakura stared at him blankly, before slowly shaking her head. Was he supposed to?

Then she heard someone giggle at her expense, and saw a small boy with dark eyes and dark hair (Uchiha, her mind added nervously) give her the same smug smile that Shikamaru had. Sakura hated the fact that his form was solid, easy to see because some of the other children were very wobbly. But then she noticed his shadow, which was somehow subtler, but larger than the ones surrounding the other children, and Sakura stepped away from him anxiously.

She had to be careful. Bad things happened in her dreams when she touched the shadows. And the Uchiha especially seemed… cursed.

The look the teacher gave her made it clear he noticed her ‘tactical retreat’, but after a brief frown, he patiently started to show her all of the moves of the kata, including how to twist her body to ‘form the right kind of tension before snapping the release’, as well as the correct angles for her hands and feet. “You’ll need to practice at home,” he told her seriously. As if he expected her to forget. Sakura frowned at the man for his lack of faith.

Lunch was interesting. The nurse very kindly washed and wrapped her shoulder, and she was somehow so nice and funny that Sakura found herself telling her things. “I’m just worried about Kakashi-san. What will he do when the bad-nin come back?”

The woman laughed at her. “Hatake-san is a very good shinobi, Sakura-chan. It would take a lot of very skilled bad-nin for him to be in danger.”

Sakura shook her head, and leveled the woman with a look. She knew better. “You’re wrong. They told me Sarutobi-san was a strong shinobi too, but he still got knocked out and let my Mama die. Even very good shinobi can get hurt, Nurse-san.”

The woman had just giggled, “Well, aren’t you precocious,” but it sounded like she was looking down at her, so Sakura didn’t smile in response.

This is what she got for talking about things to grown-ups other than Kakashi-san.

Sakura almost made it until the end of the school day without touching anyone but Ino-chan, but then this loud blonde kid pushed his way in front of her, and the sharp feeling of pain and death was so strong surrounding his body that she shot backwards without watching to see where she was going. She was caught by another small body, and Sakura looked up nervously to see who it was. Shikamaru’s face came into her sight, just as his shadow jotted forward to wrap around her body.

Kami, it hurt.

She struggled to breathe for almost a minute, and by that time the boy behind her was actually looking concerned, but she finally forced herself to pull away. “Thanks,” she mumbled, before jotting out of the classroom.

Kakashi-san was nearby, busy talking to a teenager with dark hair (another stupid Uchiha), but Sakura’s didn’t wait to throw herself into his arms. He caught her with one arm, and the frown on his face made it clear he was surprised at the action, but Sakura just buried her tears into his green vest jacket.

She heard a voice from beside her (not Kakashi’s) ask, “What happened?”

“The dobe knocked into her, but she didn’t even fall down. She’s just a crybaby.”

“Sasuke…” There was a warning in his voice.

The boy grumbled, but Sakura barely noticed, because Kakashi-san had bent down in order to scoop her up into his arms, so that her head was resting on his shoulder. He let out a long sigh. “I better take her home. See you later, Itachi-kun.”

She heard who she guessed was the teenager state, “Taichou”, but then they were moving very quickly over the rooftops and Sakura forgot about her tears and everything lead up to it. Because she was flying through the air, and it felt _amazing_.

When they got back to the apartment Kakashi-san noticed her change in mood with a raised brow, but Sakura ignored him. Instead she went to sit on the couch and gave him a pointed look. He laughed out loud and summoned his dogs, and then grinned as they piled around the couch.

“Maa. Sakura-chan. I’m starting the think you like them more than me.”

Sakura frowned, unhappy that he would even think that. So she dragged him to sit on the couch too. The way he was still smiling after they got settled felt like a victory.

He asked his question carefully, a few minutes after everyone had relaxed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sakura was quiet for a few minutes, thinking. But this was Kakashi-san, and he had never given her a reason not to tell him anything. So she told him, not looking at him, remembering. “Naruto bumped into me. It… hurt.”

She felt his body still, and wondered what that meant.

“What did you see?”

This time she did look at him. “I didn’t see anything. I felt.”

Another pause. Kakashi-san looked like he was thinking really hard. “What did you feel?”

“Death.”

“Hm.” Kakashi nodded sagely, and then he leaned back in the couch and looked like he was getting ready to take a nap.

Their afternoon was the best kind of lazy, and Sakura ended the day practicing the kata she had learned while Kakashi-san was making dinner. She didn’t stop until the transition between the movements felt comfortable enough that she could keep her balance. And then they went to bed, and Sakura could tell that neither or them expected that she would be able to sleep through the night.

As her dreams started, Sakura was somewhat surprised to see Shikamaru, who had made less of an impact than Naruto. But then she remembered feeling his shadow choke her, and cringed.

At first he was older and running, but still a kid, and Sakura was somewhat stunned to see Naruto and herself running beside him. He was grim and tense, but determined to help. But then bad-nin were behind them, and he knew their mission was important to the village, so he muttered, “You two go and try to catch up to Sasuke. I’ll hold them off.”

Even though his voice was strong, inside he was anxious and panicky, desperately making plans to trap and evade. But there were too many of the bad-nin to be easily held off, and they were too skilled, and his desperation grew as they got in more hits and he ran out of ideas, and he was crying out in pain...

And he was so sure he was going to die, and there was anger and regret brewing amidst the pain, and he couldn’t breathe, and he considered stopping and accepting his fate…

But then a man flashed into existence and downed all nine of the bad-nin in a matter of minutes, and Sakura was almost as startled to see Sarutobi-san as Shikamaru was. Relief flooded.

The scene changed.

Shikamaru wasn’t much older than the last take, but he wore a Chunnin vest and the group he led was larger. Sakura noted curiously that she wasn’t present. He gestured to the formation with a hand sign, which split and dropped from the trees, and she realized they were trailing after an Uchiha.

There was a battle, and four more shinobi shot out to form a circle of defense around the Uchiha. Sakura recognized the music note on their hitai-ate with curiosity as the groups converged and attacked. Everyone moved with deadly intent, and Sakura was once again struck by how serious this was compared to spars she noticed some of the older kids doing at the Academy yesterday. All of the dreams she had of shinobi were like this. The fights were bloody, and desperate, and intense…

Shikamaru was mad and upset at the Uchiha, but his true suffering didn’t start until one of his friends was struck down. “Chouji, no!” And then came the fear and desperation, and eventually in the fighting he signaled a retreat. Getting to his friend’s body, Shikamaru could barely breathe from the dread and the guilt. But then, thank kami he was alive, but he needed a hospital, and they all needed to return to the village to report to the new Hokage…

It struck him on the way back. That he had failed his mission. That he wasn’t able to keep his friends safe. What use was a promotion if he wasn’t strong enough to back it up?

And he was drowning in guilt, and hurt, and self-blame, and anger, and-

Someone shook her and suddenly Shikamaru was crying, and Sarutobi-san was there, bleeding, giving the boy a tender look, stating, “You're so smart… and have great sense as a shinobi. You could definitely become Hokage. But… you're too lazy… You'd probably hate it. I never even beat you once at shōgi… Ah, yes… Remember our talk about the King?”

A bloody, congested cough, and Shikamaru felt dread pooling, and- "The "kings" are the unborn children who will grow up to take care of the leaf. One is still in Kurenai's womb… hers and my child. Take care of my king!"

And Shikamaru was crying because it hurt so much, and he considered the implication to his sensei’s words with heartbreak, because he was about to have a baby, and needed to _be_ there for something like that…

And then Shikamaru finally heard- "I want one last smoke." And it was like his chest was broken all over again…

Even as the body stilled, and cooled, his grief remained cutting. Desperate, and unhappy, pulling at some integral pain from deep inside of him. And somehow there was longing and remembrance, but it was bitter-sweet… And the pain mixed right into the guilt and self-blame, the mental comments that second-guessed everything and said things like, ‘If only I had trained harder, been stronger, this could have turned out differently’. But those thoughts didn’t matter, because now he was dead-

Another shove, and Sakura saw a much older version of herself kneeling in front of Shikamaru, glowing green hands pressed into his stomach. They were both dressed like Kakashi-san, and they both looked so tired and dirty… She was shocked to see that they were also both crying, and her older-self sounded angry and desperate, “Damnit, damnit, damnit, why the fuck did you do that? I don’t have enough chakra to heal this. I could have dodged it!”

But Shikamaru just gave her a smug smirk, so like the one Sakura saw on his face yesterday, and said, “You couldn’t have. I’m not blind, Sakura.”

Angry tears.

Shikamaru was upset too, but more than that, there was regret and despair. It bubbled to the surface in his mind as he thought about all the could-have-been scenarios, and remembered everyone he loved that had already died. He was desperate to reach out to someone. He figured that Sakura was a good someone for that role.

“You know what I regret Sakura?”

The woman glared at him. “It better not be what I think it is Shika, I swear to kami-”

“I wish we could have played shogi, at least once.”

The surprise on older Sakura’s face was clear, and then it settled into a look of profound fondness, sadness and compassion, and Shikamaru could feel echoes of the sentiment deep in his chest… but he was curious. “What did you think I was going to say?”

And then older Sakura blushed, and Shikamaru’s mind whirled considering the implications, and regret pulled at him all over again, and hurt because he cared so damn much... And then he choked on something metallic-tasting, and the force of his coughs painted the front of Sakura in red, the blood clumping to her uniform in a way he thought offhandedly was rather grotesque, and he couldn’t breathe, could barely register the warm tears streaming down his cheeks, and-

Shikamaru filled with resolve a second before he threw himself forward, just enough to give older Sakura a short, bloody kiss, and older Sakura bit down cries after he let go, still desperately pushing chakra into his chest...and the desperation and loss and grief were drowning, and he felt his heart stutter, and-

“What’s going on?” A busty blonde woman, and then-

Another shake, and Sakura woke up in tears, crying heaving sobs. She felt upset and strangely confused. She could tell that Kakashi-san and all of the ninkin were awake and probably worried about her, but Sakura was too busy trying to remember how to breathe...

Still, it felt really nice when Kakashi pulled her into his arms and started to stroke her hair, as her sobs got quieter. She expected him to let her fall back asleep, and was surprised when he started asking questions.

“Who?”

Sakura let out a soft sigh. But answered, because this was Kakashi-san. “Shikamaru. A boy in my class.”

A pause, and then, “There was no screaming.” His voice sounded almost bored when he said it, and Sakura thought to herself, and not for the first time, that Kakashi-san was a very funny man.

She tried to explain the question he wasn’t asking. “His pain was mostly… internal?” She looked at him to check if that was the right word, and he nodded. “Because his friends were hurt. So he felt guilt and regret. But not the screaming kind?”

“Hm.”

It was starting to feel like too much again. Partly because of what happened in the dream, and partly because she was in it. And he had kissed her! Which was _weird_ , and… Why? And Sakura was having a really hard time thinking of the little boy she had met and the person she dreamed about as the same person…

But she could think about that later. Because she had a question she wasn’t sure how to ask, which was super important because it was something she had been thinking about- “Kakashi-san?”

He snorted. “Just Kakashi is fine, Sakura-chan. What is it?”

“Shikamaru’s hurt hasn’t happened yet. If I could help him not regret something… should I?”

She turned around on his chest to look at him, wanting to see his face. He was frowning at the ceiling. “You… dream about things that haven’t happened yet?”

Sakura nodded, knowing he could see her.

“Like what?”

Sakura thought hard about what she had seen so far. “Murders. Massacres. Invasions.”

He tensed. Sakura could feel it, and it made her nervous, so she poked his shirt with a pout. “What.”

He took a long time to answer. “Just thinking. But for now, your friend, what was his regret?”

“He never played shoji with me.”

At Kakashi’s raised brow, Sakura frowned defensively. “What?”

“He was dying?”

Sakura nodded. “But I don’t think he died.” After all, that busty woman had green chakra around her fingers already pooling as she came into the clearing…

“Hm.” Kakashi stroked his chin with an exaggerated motion, and Sakura could help but giggle. “I’m going to have to meet this Shikamaru-kun.”

“Kakashi!”

His eye crinkled in a way that showed he was grinning, and his hand came up to ruffle her hair. “Ask him to play shoji, Sakura. It’s a good idea.”

And then he laughed because she was still pouting.

But before long it broke into a smile, because Sakura was fairly sure that she was starting to love Kakashi. Her new favorite person.

* * *

 

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! Hope you liked the chapter... 
> 
> But... there were a few things I was very unsure about. The dream sequence and Sakura's voice, mostly. If you have any comments that might let me know how that went/how I could improve I would really appreciate it. Editing is my friend! As are my readers, so it makes sense to bring them together. But no pressure. :)
> 
> Also, just in case you were curious:  
> -Kakashi did notice the bandages missing in his bathroom, but he wasn't entirely sure why, and didn't have a strong enough reason to ask. He might now that he's realized she is reluctant to show him her injuries.  
> -The reason the teacher does not insist Sakura see a nurse right away- they are training to become shinobi, and a very important part of that is withstanding pain and understanding personal limits. Her teacher is attempting to begin that lesson for her while testing to see how well she understands these concepts.  
> -Shikamaru adopted the Troublesome phrase from his father, in my head canon. Which is why he used it here.  
> -The ShikaSaku was completely not my intention starting this chapter. It just happened. So... yeah. If it sounds like a good idea, let me know. I'll add the tags. If not... let me know.


	6. At the Drop of a Hat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shikaku POV

**Chapter 6: At the Drop of a Hat**

* * *

 

“Most misunderstandings in the world could be avoided if people would simply take the time to ask, "What else could this mean?”

― Shannon L. Alder

* * *

 

Shikaku stared at his son curiously as the boy quickly ushered a small pink-haired girl onto their back porch, before rushing to retrieve a shoji set. He knew his son was growing rather fond of the board game, but the current state of his enthusiasm was atypical for his perpetually lazy son.

He hummed thoughtfully once he got a better look of the girl. Around his son’s age, but Shikaku was fairly sure he had never seen the girl before. Probably an Academy student in his class. Had his son actually initiated an exchange and invited a stranger to their home?

His interest grew.

Shikaku settled himself down on the wood flooring close enough to the board that he would be able to watch the proceedings, but not close enough to seem intrusive. He noticed the weighted gravity between the two children with some amusement, until he realized the girl looked nervous. Tense and anxious, her gaze flickered over to him in trepidation.

Hm. Did she know of him, or was she simply nervous around strangers in general? He raised a brow and considered saying something, but his mental musings were interrupted by a sound in the woods. The girl’s attention snapped to several deer staring at the group with wide eyes. She slowly relaxed and smiled after seeing the animals, before forcing herself to take a calming breath, looking into the sky for strength.

His son set the board, and the girl’s attention was drawn to the game. She stared at the tiles in blatant confusion. And then, based on the set of her chin as she stared back at Shikamaru, mounting stubborn determination.

Shikaku considered the improbable idea that she didn’t know how to play. Her behavior was rather easy to interpret, but why would she have agreed to participate if she wasn’t aware of the mechanics?

But the next three games made it obvious that she had no idea what she was doing. She didn’t incorporate any kind of strategy. She didn’t even seem to know how the individual tiles operated on the board until Shikamaru demonstrated their function. And as a result of her ignorance (as she waited to see how a piece could be moved, and then slid the pieces forward indiscriminately), the speed of the games was very fast-paced.

For his part, his son was growing increasingly confused and disappointed.

And then in the fourth game, she replicated part of a strategy Shikamaru had used in the second. She was soundly trounced, but she finally seemed to understand the point of the game was to protect the king.

The fifth and sixth games were played more systematically. She purposely placed different tiles in clear lines of attack, curiously working out Shikamaru’s tendencies. Which tiles was he more likely to protect? Who was he more likely to sacrifice? Who did he try to promote first? Why?

As they set up their seventh game, Shikaku stared at his son curiously. Was he previously aware that the girl didn’t know how to play? Why hadn’t he lost interest in continuing?

It seems his son was similarly bothered because he asked, “Sakura? Why did you want to play shoji?”

So she initiated this exchange?

The girl stared at Shikamaru with a serious expression on her face. “So later we won’t die with regret.” And then she made the first move.

Both Naras stared at the girl in baffled confusion. Shikaku absentmindedly stroked his goatee, considering what kind of experiences this five-year-old had to have encountered to have such concerns. Frowning, Shikamaru turned to look at him. Shikaku tilted his head in question. But the boy just furrowed his brows and unclenched his fingers before moving a tile.

This game was not as easy. The girl incorporated a rudimentary trap behind the copied strategy of their fourth game that managed to promote her knight and eliminate his rook in one fell swoop. Clearly not expecting such a ploy, the boy stared at her for a full thirty seconds before he brutally retaliated.

But Sakura was not to be dissuaded. In the next two games, she developed more sophisticated ruses catered to his son’s habits and favored pieces. Her process was fascinating to witness. To watch someone who had no official instruction or knowledge about popular strategies attempt to understand and respond to the game- the girl was clearly both clever and intelligent. And intuitively inclined towards at least rudimentary strategy, if her ability to cater her defense and attacks was any indication.

At the beginning of the tenth game Sakura froze, and then shot a quick glance to the door leading into the house. It opened twenty seconds later, and Shikaku was surprised to see Hatake Kakashi walk onto his porch. More interesting still was to see how the girl immediately relaxed and shot the man a bright smile. Kakashi smiled back, and then turned to greet him with a short bow.

“Shikaku-san,” he stated, before letting out a large yawn. Shikaku nodded, feeling amused, and watched as the young man lazily turned to stare at his son and the board between sitting between the two children. “Sorry to interrupt, but it is about time to eat. I wanted to make sure she wasn’t overstaying her welcome.”

The girl immediately pouted. “I’m almost done, Kakashi.”

Kakashi smirked, causing the corner of his visible eye to crease with mischief. “Haven’t managed to beat him yet?”

The girl mock-glared, before crossing her arms and pouting more dramatically. The man laughed, before sinking to the floor next to him. “Well, go on then.”

Sakura grinned, first at Kakashi and then Shikamaru, who was now wearing his own disgruntled pout. “I am not going to just let you win,” the boy stated with childish aggravation.

The girl smirked. “I know,” and then moved a piece forward decisively.

Shikaku watched the dynamic between the two curiously. He wasn’t aware that Kakashi was currently taking care of someone, much less a five-year-old pink-headed Academy student. It was odd to think about, considering what he knew about the young man. As a shinobi, he was dedicated, intelligent, skilled, and his talents were extremely versatile. But from what the Jounin Commander had witnessed, as a man he was rather aloof and led a solitary lifestyle. He considered why his behavior and circumstances would have changed as he leaned into the teenager to his right. “I wasn’t aware you had any children, Kakashi-kun.”

The young man turned and gave Shikaku a look of bored exasperation. “I would have been thirteen at the time. Really?”

Shikaku snorted, and sent the teenager a sly grin. “Just because you didn’t make her doesn’t mean she’s not your kid.”

Kakashi paused and turned to look at Sakura, who had her face scrunched adorably in concentration. “Ah,” he eventually agreed, nodding.

“So how did that happen?”

“Happy coincidence. Her parents died, and I just happened to be there.”

Shikaku really doubted that was all there was to the story, but he didn’t pry.

 “Hm. Lucky girl.”

Kakashi made a noncommittal sound.  

They both turned their attention back to the board game. And Shikaku realized that Sakura’ proficiency had finally matured enough to present a challenge. Both sides were layered with traps, and both children staged various ploys attempting to draw the other into the line of attack. Shikaku saw his son frown, his small hands clasped together in front of his face, finally forced to spend time deliberating strategy.

Kakashi noticed first, Shikaku was somehow ashamed to admit (even if his attention had been drawn towards the cuteness that was his son’s current posture). The young man suddenly grinned, which forced Shikaku to quickly reevaluate the board. And then he gave off a sharp chuckle.

They both watched in anticipation as Sakura moved a knight purposely into one of Shikamaru’s traps, clearly an unanticipated move. But Shikamaru followed through, capturing the high profile piece. This started a domino effect of taken pieces, and eventually Sakura had a promoted pawn positioned in a checkmate.

Shikaku immediately understood her stratagem. So far Sakura had been forced to mimic Shikamaru’s moves and style as she was still learning the rules of the game. She had then adopted his tendency of baiting and sacrificing specific pieces. She had mirrored him, and through nine games had created a precedent that Shikamaru picked up as a familiar pattern, and perhaps subconsciously came to anticipate. So it was a simple matter for Sakura to create a trap catered to upsetting his tendencies and taking advantage of his calculated anticipatory responses.

 It was a clever win. Shikaku really doubted that she would be able to use the same strategy in the future, especially against his son, but he was still appropriately impressed considering she had no idea how to play two and a half hours ago.

His son was frowning at the board, picking apart series of moves in order to determine where it all went wrong. Shikamaru finally looked at the pinkette in careful consideration, and Shikaku noted the boy’s surprise when he realized the girl was smiling kindly at him.

“Thank you for being so patient, Shikamaru. I’m sorry it took a while to figure out the rules. But I had lots of fun. You are very smart!”

Instead of being appeased by the compliment, his son appeared to be slightly distressed. His lips were tightening, and Shikaku was sure he was preparing to ask the girl for a rematch, when said girl shot out of her seat and adopted a defensive position. A brightly polished kunai reflected light as it was brandished at some spot towards the woods.

At almost the exact same time Shikaku sensed someone breaching the seals lining the Nara property, and the Jounin Commander wondered at the girl. And at the young ANBU member that had taken up a post of observation in the tree line. Was Kakashi being followed? And when had the intruder gotten permission to breach his woods?

Kakashi, who had tensed up from her actions and the presence in the trees, was the first to speak up, and his tone was blandly apprehensive. “Sakura-chan?”

The girl anxiously turned to give young man a brief glance, before her gaze eventually settled on him. “Nara-san? This is your family’s woods, right?”

Shikaku nodded.

The girl turned to the young man next to him. “They’re hiding where they’re not supposed to, Kakashi.”

Kakashi nodded. “Ah.”

“They’re not in the Hokage’s office anymore. Bad-nin?”

Kakashi stared at her for a heartbeat, before he visibly relaxed and gestured for her to sit back down. She did so hesitantly, obviously confused.  He turned and gave Shikaku a brief, complicated expression, before he began attempting to placate the girl. “Konoha shinobi aren’t bad-nin, Sakura. Even ANBU. After all, they’re trained to protect the village and the people inside, right?”

Sakura’s confusion grew. “Konoha shinobi kill people in the village all the time, Kakashi.”

Kakashi frowned, and shoved his hand through his hair in an aggravated manner. “They’re not supposed to.”

But the girl was shaking her head in disagreement. “Sometimes they’re told to. By the Hokage. Or Danzou.”

Shikaku noted that the poor teenager looked upset and completely out of his depths, and decided to step in. It certainly wasn’t the first time he had been forced to have difficult conversations with precocious children. His son was very curious, and quick to pick apart some of the more conventional lies fed to the village’s children.

And Shikaku was more than a little curious to see where she had gotten this information.

“What makes them bad-nin, Sakura-chan?”

Her attention shot to him. “They’re hiding. And they want to hurt people?”

“There are people in the village like that?”

Her nod was assertive.

“Are the shinobi who get rid of those people bad-nin?”

She shook her head.

“But they would need to hide and hurt the bad-nin? Wouldn’t that make them the same?”

The girl stared at him. And then rephrased the question curiously. “Can good-nin become bad-nin? Or are all nin bad?”

Shikaku nodded, interested in her thought process, and the girl frowned in thought.

His son joined the discussion, his own curiousity obvious from the eagerness in his posture. “Good-nin can become bad-nin. That’s why we have missing-nins. But not all of our nin are bad.”

Sakura turned to Shikamaru inquisitively, although she was nodding in agreement. “In Sunagakure, we’re all bad-nin.”

Shikamaru shook his head. “That’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because we were enemies in the war?”

“So do you think all Suna-nin are bad-nin?”

Shikamaru’s face wrinkled in thought. “Not since the war?”

“What if they killed Konoha-nin? To protect their family? Are they bad-nin?” She seemed genuinely curious.

His son’s face settled in a pout. “Just to protect their family?”

Sakura nodded.

“Then no? But still enemies.”

She nodded. “All bad-nin are enemies, but not all enemies are bad-nin.”

Shikaku could tell Shikamaru’s thoughts were whirling from that statement, based on the furrow of his small brow.

Sakura hummed, and turned back to face the adults decisively. “Bad-nin hide because they don’t want you to know what they’re doing. And they _like_ making people hurt. Because of their own suffering. Whether or not they are Konoha-nin or Suna-kin doesn’t matter.” She said it like a statement, her tone chock full of childish obstinacy.

All three males frowned, and again Shikaku wondered. It was a rather simple attempt at understanding morality, but it was curiously advanced for someone her age to pass judgment based on intention rather than village affiliation. Especially considering they had recently exited a war, and she should have been exposed to propaganda against Iwa and Suna in the village. He spoke hesitantly. “Sakura-chan? Do you trust the village?”

“To do what?”

“Keep you safe?”

The girl shook her head.

“Why?”

The girl shot a quick glance at Kakashi, before looking back at him. “The village can’t keep anyone safe. It does things, ‘for the good of the village’. But that’s not the same thing.”

“No?”

Sakura looked at him solemnly, and slowly sounded out the words of her defense with purpose. “Shinobi are… sacrificed. Civilians die in..” she paused, obviously quoting an adult, “‘calculated risks’. Children go missing. Konoha doesn’t care.”

This was… bordering on treason, actually. Not at all false, but not something that was talked about (for obvious reasons). And it appeared Sakura was too young to understand the importance of being verbally discriminating with her thoughts on politically-sensitive issues. Not at all surprising, considering her age.

Shikaku turned to look at Kakashi curiously, only to see the young man was staring at the girl almost morosely. Which was… odd. And then the teenager turned to him, tense and anxious, and Shikaku realized they had things they needed to talk about. He opened in the sliding doors decisively and bellowed into the kitchen. “Yoshino!”

She yelled back cheerily. “Shikaku!”

“Do you mind if we have a couple of guests over for dinner?”

His wife showed up and curiously peeked around the door to see who else was on the porch. Absentmindedly drying a plate, she let out a very female noise of excitement after seeing Sakura. “Oh, so cute! Of course it’s no problem. Hello again, Hatake-san!”

The teenager nodded.

“Should be about fifteen minutes!” Shikaku smiled indulgently at his wife as she went back inside of the house.

The next few moments were tense. Kakashi understood the implications of their dinner plans, and had taken out his orange book to deal with the anxiety. And the children could pick up on the mood of the adults, but Shikamaru occupied himself by putting away the shogi board. Sakura fidgeted nervously with the handle of her kunai.

In the silence, it seemed Shikamaru found his opening. He picked up the board and addressed the pinkette somewhat nervously. “Would you play me again?”

And she smiled. “Sure. It was fun.”

His son nodded in agreement, hurrying inside the house to return the board, a slight smile turning his lips.

Shikaku witnessed the exchange with fatherly amusement, before curiously looking out into woods. And he asked the girl something that had been bothering him. “How did you know they were there, Sakura-chan? Could you sense their chakra?”

But the girl shook her head. “I could feel their pain.”

“Their pain?”

She nodded, and Kakashi interrupted. “What about the seals in the Hokage’s office?”

Sakura frowned. “Remembered suffering. In the blood.”

Shikaku felt his face scrunch as he considered what he was hearing. Perhaps not the oddest ability he had ever encountered (if he was understanding the girl right), but certainly unusual. He wondered at the what else wasn’t being said. He turned to look at Kakashi again, and saw that the young man was staring at him in apprehension.

They sat down to eat dinner, which would have been a quiet, nervous affair if it wasn’t for his cheerful, if overbearing, darling wife. Who teased both red-faced children and a reserved Kakashi into conversation with a heavy hand, which served to release more than a little tension in the atmosphere. Meanwhile, as they were eating, Shikaku considered how he would pull Kakashi aside and introduce this line of conversation. From what he knew of the young man, he doubted Kakashi would feel comfortable taking the initiative to speak to him first.

But he was surprised when that was exactly what happened.

The children were in the kitchen with Yoshino, by now loudly chattering as they helped clean dishes. Kakashi gave him a pointed look and walked purposely into the next room. Only when they were alone, sitting, and after Kakashi had done a simple surveillance sweep did he breach the topic that was Sakura, beginning with their initial meeting and ending with the nature of her dreams.

“I didn’t feel comfortable openly sharing this with anyone, but I figured you wouldn’t be so easily swayed with the PTSD excuse. Please understand her situation, and mine. If what she says is true, she is in danger of being recruited for things she’s not equipped to handle. And I hardly know what to do about the fact that Sakura can apparently foresee future massacres and village invasions.”

Shikaku barely knew where to start. He was now feeling rather baffled by the girl- her experiences and talents were much more than he had originally been anticipating. And his brain was spinning with activity, considering of all the implications. As Head of Intelligence, he analyzed all of the ways his position could use her ability to his advantage in order to better prepare the village for threats. As a shinobi, he considered how dangerous it was to have such a small person know about all of the dark, most painful secrets of the village, and personally felt uncomfortably exposed by the unanticipated security threat. And then another perspective forced its way into his brain. That of a father, recently cultivated by his son and far more compassionate, that considered how painful this situation must be for the girl. To experience the suffering of everyone in the village.

Shikaku also employed a healthy amount of skepticism. He trusted Kakashi to be honest about his experiences, but it was rather unbelievable.

So verification would then be the first step.

“Would you allow Inoichi to take a look inside of her head?”

Kakashi tensed, dragging his gloved hands anxiously over his thighs. He was silent for several long moments, and Shikaku considered what the young genius was thinking. “I suppose,” the young man drew an uncomfortable breath, “it depends on what the two of you plan to do with her afterwards.”

Shikaku understood what wasn’t being said. “You don’t want the Hokage to know.”

“If the Hokage knows, so do the council members. She’s not ready for something like that.”

“You think Danzou would try to recruit her?”

Kakashi stared at him balefully. “Don’t you?”

Shikaku hummed thoughtfully, considering the barely concealed Root program. While he was openly against the methods of emotional manipulation employed against its members, Shikaku could understand the importance of their function in the village. And while he was suspicious that the head of Root had his own agenda and was busy attempting to manipulate the scenes in the background (Shikaku was not an idiot), it was easy to imagine why the man might consider someone like Sakura an asset. Someone to train and manipulate in order to ensure loyalty, but then lock away when she wasn’t being used because of the inherent risk that she was.

He decided to address one of his concerns. “You realize, if she is telling the truth, what a security risk this is. And the longer she stays in the village the larger that risk grows. If she is captured for any reason and interrogated, it could have devastating consequences for the village.”

Kakashi tensed further, knuckles turning white with the pressure. “I had realized that, yes.”

“And you have considered that they might try to eliminate her for that reason alone?”

Kakashi grimaced, and let out a terse nod.

“But you intend to protect her?”

The grim smile the young man gave him was strained. “Like you said, she’s one of my kids now. She is mine to protect.”

Shikaku let out a harsh breath, and smirked at him. “Quite a lot of responsibility for a teenager without any outside assistance.”

The baleful look was back. “I turn twenty in less than half a year.”

“Yeah, well…” Shikaku considered what he knew of the girl as he decided on his next plan of action. Clever, intelligent, curious, strong-willed (she would have to be in this circumstance), and very visibly attached to Kakashi. But anxious, disloyal to the village and emotionally unstable. “You think she can be trained?”

Kakashi looked at him seriously and nodded. “She is smart and diligent in her studies. A little uncoordinated, but consistent in her kata exercises. And very comfortable with weapons.”

Shikaku sighed, dissatisfied with Kakashi’s response. That hardly addressed his concerns. He considered the situation out loud. “She does not seem very loyal to the village.”

Kakashi shrugged. “She is still young, and the village failed to help protect her parents. But she is fiercely protective of the people she cares about. If she’s allowed to develop bonds, I don’t think it will be a problem.”

Shikaku considered that, and continued. “Her emotional instability?”

Kakashi grimaced. “We’re working on it. Sharing her experiences seem to help. And I think it will improve when she feels more secure.”

Shikaku sighed, relenting. This was going to be such a pain…

 “If you want her to be untouchable, you will have to make her extraordinary,” he warned. When the village heads found out (which he was sure would happen eventually), her very existence would be evaluated. She would need to be brilliant in order to be considered more of an asset than a vulnerability to the village. And she would need to have the support of the clans in order to dissuade Danzou, which wouldn’t happen unless she was a genius. The only surefire way to earn the respect of powerful clans like the Uchiha or the Hyuuga.

His thoughts meandered. “You might even consider a political marriage to one of the clan heirs when she is older. To establish a wider blanket of support.”

Kakashi snorted. “I am hardly going to arrange her marriage, Shikaku-san.”

The look he gave the teenager was reprimanding. “You need to consider using all of the advantages you have at your disposal.”

Kakashi let out an aggravated sigh. “She is five. Let’s let her be five. We can talk about this again in a decade.”

Shikaku huffed a laugh. He supposed he would feel similarly uncomfortable arranging Shikamaru’s marriage if asked. “I would still like her to be evaluated by Inoichi. And I may share this information.”

Kakashi looked slightly bitter, realizing, perhaps, that he had little power in this exchange. “At your discretion.”

Shikaku's smile was wane. “I trust Chouza and Inoichi to be discreet.”

Kakashi relaxed slightly.

“You both need support, and they would be the best means to offer it. In fact, it would probably benefit Sakura to come to some of our shared family dinners. Chouza, Inoichi and I host a barbecue every couple of weeks. We would be able to keep an eye on her, and she would be allowed to form important bonds.”

Kakashi nodded. “I would appreciate it. And it would be helpful if she could be looked after when I am out of village on ANBU missions.”

Shikaku nodded. “I’m sure that could be arranged. My son seems quite fond of her.”

The two men shared a brief, amused smirk.

Shikaku continued his advice, thinking aloud. “As for the girl's instruction, if might benefit her to find a teacher outside of you if she is using you as a person of support. And this would give her the opportunity to expand her network. Perhaps you could introduce the members of your ANBU team? If you can trust them to keep her secret?”

Another tense smile. “Perhaps.”

“It is something to consider.”

He knew Kakashi wasn’t the type to seek outside help, but perhaps if he prodded the man enough, he would relent.

Kakashi’s next words were halting. “I appreciate your assistance with this. I know it would be far easier to not involve yourself or your family.”

Shikaku leaned back on his hands and yawned. “Our children are our future, yada yada yada…”

Kakashi snorted.

Shikaku grinned.

At least he could tease his young kouhai. That might be fun.

And in the meantime he had some investigating to do. To figure out why an ANBU member had visited his woods before dinner. Which one of them was being followed? How much did they know? Who had given them permission to breach his property? And what _had_ happened to the girl on her recent trip that was so mysterious?

Kami, this would be troublesome…

* * *

To be continued...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had a lot of difficulty with Sakura's comments this chapter, and slightly agonized over it... let me know?
> 
> And to address some potential questions:  
> -Kakashi approached Shikaku because there was too much already exposed. He knew that a confrontation was coming anyways, and he wanted to head it off. Not typical according to his avoidance personality, I know, but he is starting to realize that being a parent/guardian/thing requires some proactivity.  
> -Sakura feels comfortable addressing Shikaku's questions because Kakashi is there and seems comfortable letting him hear.
> 
>  
> 
> Let me know if I missed anything/if you had any other questions? Considering Inoichi, Ibiki, or Itachi POV next chapter. Preference?
> 
> And thank you as always for your comments/kudos/mental support!


	7. Devil's Advocate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Itachi POV

**Chapter 7: Devil's Advocate**

* * *

“It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.”

― Chuck Palahniuk

* * *

 

Itachi was traveling on top of rooftops on his way home from ninjutsu practice, subconsciously following the well-treaded path, when a flash of pink caught his attention. He stopped when he remembered how he recognized her, and idle enough to feel justified indulging in his curiosity, he crept towards the edge of the rooftop to get a better look.

She was alone. Lurching forward towards the market, skittish, gaze darting around nervously. On an adult he would have prescribed the actions as suspicious, but he dismissed the notions given what he knew of her age and ability.

Tired from training, he was tempted to leave. Even as some part of his brain was analyzing the obvious signs of paranoia in the girl, who actively shied away from traveling pedestrians. Two things kept him in place. One; a flash of metal that indicated she was desperately clutching a standard issue kunai. Something too large for her to have received at the Academy, and inappropriate to carry out in the open around unarmed civilians. Two; Kakashi-taichou was nowhere in sight. His ANBU Commander had explained the recent change in his living situation in the broadest of terms, but based on how quickly the silver-haired man attended to her needs, it was obvious they shared more than a passing regard. He doubted the man, who entertained his own unique brand of cynicism, would leave her alone like this on purpose.

Additionally, it was easy to supplement the girl with Sasuke in his head, and he knew there was no way Sasuke would ever be allowed to wander alone in Konoha central.

Itachi felt duty-bound to investigate, and moved to jump off of the roof. He was momentarily surprised to see the girl’s eyes dart to his a couple of seconds before he fell. He silent footsteps were ingrained at this point, and his chakra had been cloaked… it seems the rumors about the little girl who could detect ANBU were true. Interesting that she had found herself in his Taichou’s guardianship.

He landed unobtrusively between a stall and a cart, and she watched him approach, her stance automatically settling into a crouch as if she was preparing to run.

Itachi felt himself frown. What reason did she have to behave this way towards him? He wasn’t dressed in an intimidating uniform; just a black-mesh shirt and black ninja pants, easy to wash and mend. He had never threatened or hurt someone in front of her. And she would not have been old enough to remember his demonstration during the Chunnin exams, which was the last presentation of power he had engaged in that was open to the public…

Another step closer to her, and she flinched. Another step, and she carefully grasped the handle of the blade so that the weapon was pointed towards him defensively. Another step, and she stepped back, and Itachi watched with a furrowed brow as she started hyperventilating and her arms shook from fear.

Extremely disconcerted, Itachi quickly closed the gap between them, and redirected the girl to an empty alleyway, attempting to preemptively avoid a scene in the event that she became hysterical.

She did not. She looked around at the narrow, enclosed space with trepidation and resignation, but raised the blade towards him in the end with stubborn determination.

He would have been exasperated at the display if he wasn’t feeling so frustrated, and somehow… wronged. “I am not going to hurt you.”

She didn’t respond, staring him down distrustfully.

Itachi smoothed back the impulse to snarl slightly. “I have no reason to hurt you.”

She shook her head at him, and took another step back into the alleyway. Away from him.

“Why are you behaving like this?”

She glared at a space slightly to his left, but for all her bravado, her voice was unsteady. “Your shadow is screaming. Trying to choke you. Don’t let it near me. Go away.”

Itachi stilled, and he considered her words. Carefully glanced down at his shadow, well aware of the power in the Kagemane no Jutsu, but barely a second passed when he realized it hadn’t moved and he wasn’t paralyzed. Another moment to carefully scrutinize her behavior and actions, before cataloging the signs of obvious mental instability. He considered the blade she wielded with quaking fingers, and the potential that she could be a harm to herself and others in her present situation, and made the executive decision to disarm and relocate her.

The most obvious place would be the hospital, but respect for Kakashi as a mentor made him reconsider. Perhaps it would be more appropriate to bring her home and inform her guardian first, just in case he was already aware of the girl’s…predicament.

With that decision in place, he shushined right behind her, and ignored the sudden gasp of breath and choking sound the girl emitted just a second before he pressed the pressure point on her neck. Then he easily picked the small girl up, jumped to the rooftop, and started to run towards Kakashi’s apartment.

After considering the benefits of avoiding detection, not wanting to be wrongly accused of kidnapping the girl or some such charge, Itachi took care not to confront anyone until he was standing in front of the right door.

The first knock went unanswered. As did the second and third. Concerned, Itachi turned the doorknob and was instantly on guard when the door easily swung open.

Skulking through the doorway, Itachi quickly realized the apartment was empty inside except for a sleeping ninken sprawled out on the couch. He then carefully laid the small girl down on the other side of the sofa, leaning against the armrest, and inspected the apartment for any information about his captain’s location.

It only took a few moments to find. A note taped to the front of the refrigerator, addressed to the little girl.

_Sakura,_

_I will be gone tonight and tomorrow on a solo mission. Bring Pakkun if you want to leave the house. Go to Shikamaru’s house if there’s an emergency._

_Be safe! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do~_

_Kakashi_

Beside his name, the man attached a hehenonomoheji, and Itachi had to wonder for a few moments about how much of the man’s immaturity was a front, before the pre-teen decided what to do.

Nothing in the note indicated that something like this was expected, but clearly, the next step would be to verify her condition at ‘Shikamaru’s house’. If Itachi was remembering correctly, during a recent Council meeting where the various Clan Heads were encouraged to bring and introduce their Heirs, Shikamaru was the heir to the Nara clan. Which means he should go inquire at the Nara Compound.

He considered what to do with the girl, and realized he couldn’t leave her alone until he was sure that she had calmed down some. So he picked her up, and observed the snoring ninken.

If the summoning animal had been left responsible for the girl, it would be inappropriate to leave without at least informing him of her condition. So he extended a wary foot, and shook the drooling dog awake.

The animal sputtered, before jumping up on all fours and taking a careful assessment of the living room. When the small dog saw Itachi standing with an unconscious Sakura in his arms, he immediately ambled forward. “What’s wrong with Sakura-chan? What happened?”

Itachi looked at the dog impassively. “This girl was preparing to attack me by the market, and showed signs of obvious mental instability.”

The dog frowned and his brow furrowed. “Really? Something must have happened.”

“Is this behavior typical of her?”

Cautiously, the dog shook his head.

“The note Taichou left on the fridge indicates that the Nara Head of House is an emergency contact. Would it be more appropriate to bring her to them, or the hospital?”

Pakkun panted slightly, and Itachi wondered if this was a sign of anxiety in dogs. He would have to ask Hana later. And perhaps conduct his own research; understanding dog behavior sounded like a practical skill for a shinobi to possess.

The ninken responded. “The Naras. That would be more appropriate.”

Itachi nodded, and the girl still in his arms, swept towards the door.

“Wait!” Pakkun dashed into the bedroom, and came back carrying a stuffed animal in his mouth. He then followed the Uchiha as they made their way towards the Nara compound.

A woman with dark hair and dark eyes answered the door, and Itachi recognized Shikaku’s wife, even if he couldn’t place her name. No matter. “Nara-san. Kakashi-taichou is on a mission, and Sakura-chan had an episode. A note stated that she was to come here in the case of an emergency.”

She looked briefly confused, and Itachi considered for a moment that she hadn’t been informed of this, before she quickly ushered them inside. They entered a living room, where the woman’s son was methodically moving Go stones on top of a goban, occasionally referencing an open text at his side. His head jerked up when they entered the room, and then his small body jumped up when he recognized the girl in his arms. “Sakura!”

The woman addressed Itachi authoritatively. “Shikaku is having lunch with Inoichi at the moment. I will need to go retrieve him. Stay here and watch both of them.” And then she swept out of the house.

The boy, who couldn’t have been any older than Sasuke, looked up at him with a small frown, shrewd intelligence gleaming in his eyes. “What’s going on? What is wrong with Sakura?”

Itachi ignored him in favor of laying Sakura down on a nearby couch, and Pakkun wasted no time dumping the stuffed animal by her side. Itachi noted that it was a dog, and wondered if the possession was a gift. He considered why Kakashi was encouraging this kind of security blanket now that she was in the Academy. His father had taken away Sasuke’s stuffed toys before he would even consider enrolling his eager little brother.

He answered the boy’s questions at length. “She had an episode. She needs to be looked after just in case she harms someone.”

The boy’s brows furrowed. “Why would Sakura hurt someone?” He carefully looked her over, and then met Itachi’s eyes almost accusingly. “Where is her kunai?”

Itachi was slightly confused. So the small, unstable girl carrying around the blade was… routine? “I took it away. She was behaving erratically. She couldn’t be trusted with it.”

The boy looked at him as if he was an idiot, and Itachi frowned at him. “Sakura has been carrying a kunai around ever since I met her a few months ago. She has never hurt anyone with it. Why would she start now?” The boy’s eyes narrowed. “What were you doing to her?”

Itachi felt affronted at the accusation. And somewhat bewildered. He had never had such a difficult time reasoning with children this age; the village was careful to teach them to trust and respect shinobi. It helped to keep order, and made it easier to control and protect the population during emergency situations. The fact that both of these children had been so suspicious of him, without what he felt was due cause…

“Nothing. I was merely walking by.”

“I don’t believe you.” The boy crossed his arms adamantly, and the downwards curl in his lips expressed his distaste.

Pakkun trotted forward, and he looked like he was about to intervene, when a scream caught them all off guard. They all swung as one to face the couch.

The girl was writhing from her place against the armrest, tears and snot pouring down her cheeks as sweat collected on her brow. A buckle upwards, and then another ear-piercing scream echoed in the living room. Itachi took a brief moment to consider what was going on- another hallucination? A nightmare? She didn’t appear to be awake, so a night terror was more likely… And what would be the best course of action? He knew that those with night terrors might experience a more difficult time waking, but it should still be possible?

He took a step forward, only to still when he realized he could hear her mutter words. First it was a bitter chuckle that sounded strange coming out of her mouth, and then, “"You hold onto the organization and your clan name. These things limit us and limit our capacities… These things deserve to be shunned. It is foolish to fear what we've yet to see and know!"

Itachi felt his head tilt ever so slightly. Curious. He had heard of night terrors causing screaming, moaning, gasping for air… Not muttering phrases made up of thought processes that seemed beyond what she should be capable of at that age group.

And then she started whining in distress, pulling at the short pink locks anxiously. She rolled slightly, and then grasped her chest, taking desperate breaths through heavy sobs… Broken whimpers, broken screams, and she _shook_ … He took another step towards her.

Another phrase, which came out of her like someone was pulling her teeth; choking, upset, afraid, with just a dribble of blood dripping down the side of her cheek. “There is no value in killing the likes of you… My foolish brother… If you want to kill me… curse me! Hate me! And live a long and unsightly life…”

She stopped to cough, clawed at her forearms in distress. “Run away… run away… and cling to your pitiful life. And then some day, when you have the same eyes as I do, come before me.”

Itachi felt a chill course through him. He breathed steadily through his nose, trying to ward it off. Took another step forward, intent to shake her awake, while some part of his brain was filing the words away and attempting to construe their meaning…

Another gasping breath, but she calmed somewhat. “We don't know what kind of people we truly are until the moment before our deaths. As death comes to embrace you, you will realize what you are. That's what death is, don't you think?” She wore a small ironic smile, still unconscious, and another wave of uneasy familiarity swept through him. He had had similar thoughts, but…

He gave her body a small shove. She didn’t wake. Looking down, he could see she had scratched her forearms raw, and blood was collecting in the elbow sleeve of her dress. Concerned, he grabbed both wrists, and she shot upwards again. Another scream, another stream of tears, and her small body was shaking hard…

“The village does have its dark side and its inconsistencies, but I'm still Konoha's Uchiha Itachi.”

Itachi’s mind went blank as he pulled back from the girl reflexively, but it seemed that hard jerk along her entire body was enough to wake her. She slowly opened her eyes, and upon seeing him, immediately shrieked and tried to press herself defensively into the couch, her hands held out desperately in front of her.

Itachi took a step back. Apprehensive. Unsure.

What… what was this, then? He had heard of a doujutsu that enabled the user to foresee when someone was about to die, but this seemed different. Why did she say his name? What did those muttered phrases mean?

Was… was she mocking him? Playing with him? Attempting to manipulate him? He had a hard time believing his name was muttered subconsciously…

He gazed dispassionately down at the trembling, crying girl. The Nara boy, seeing that she was awake, pushed past him. “Sakura?” The youth looked frightened and wary, his face pale, but there was a determined angle of his chin.

Sakura-chan saw and recognized the boy with palpable relief, took a large breath of air, and launched herself at him. “Shikamaru-” she said the boy’s name desperately, voice wavering through tears. He caught her, and looking both concerned and uncomfortable, wrapped his short arms around her frame. She responded with gusto, grabbing him tightly.

That was the scene that Shikaku-san and Inoichi-san walked in on. Two slightly hysterical children clinging to each other, Sakura still bleeding from her forearms and mouth, and Itachi standing in the middle of the room not quite sure what was going on.

Shikaku-san addressed him first. “Itachi?”

“Nara-sama,” he bowed his head in greeting.

"Shikaku," the older man reminded as he looked at the two children and let out a deep sigh. He gestured for the pre-teen to follow him, and Inoichi-san trailed after them both into the man’s study. The door was closed behind them decisively, and Itachi felt a sliver of curiosity and apprehension. What was going on?

Shikaku-san didn’t waste any time. “What happened?”

Itachi immediately replied, attempting to keep his report brief. “I came across Sakura-chan on my way home earlier today, and stopped to check up on her because she was alone and walking towards the market with a bladed weapon. However, as I approached her, she started to act erratically. After questioning the girl, I deemed her mentally unstable, and knocked her out. I brought her to Taichou’s apartment, but he had left for a mission earlier today. There was a note on the refrigerator that stated you were an emergency contact. I just wanted to determine if this behavior was peculiar and distressful enough to warrant admittance into the hospital.”

Shikaku gave him a tired smile. “There has been precedent, yes, and it is something she is working through. I appreciate the fact that you went to us first. Hospitalization for a mental illness, at her age, could prevent her from becoming a shinobi.”

Itachi frowned, considering. “Wouldn’t that be better? A mentally unwell child should not be given the tools to cause more of a disturbance the next time they act out.”

Shikaku nodded. “Normally I would agree with your assessment, but Sakura is not as mentally unwell as you seem to suggest. She is merely reacting to recent trauma. She just needs time to heal and learn to relax around strangers in public.”

Itachi pursed his lips, but the rest of his face was stony. He wanted to argue with the man. It was more than trauma; the girl was muttering about choking shadows, and having strange dreams about people she had just met. It was all very suspicious.

Shikaku-san seemed to be able to tell that the Uchiha was dissatisfied, because his expression turned thoughtful. The older man looked out towards the living room, and then back at the pre-teen. “What did you hear?”

Ah. So there was something. Otherwise how else would he have known? “She seemed to be dreaming about me.”

“You carried her here?”

The question pulled at something in his brain. Why should that matter? Was that a trigger?

“Yes.”

“What was the dream like?”

Itachi was quiet for a moment, trying to find the right descriptor. “Distressful”.

Shikaku-san hummed. “What has Kakashi told you about the girl?”

So Kakashi did know the truth about the girl. And he was still encouraging her to go to the Academy? He remembered the flash of a teary blur of pink he first saw a few months ago. She had seemed just as overwhelmed and socially anxious. Why were Shikaku-san and Kakashi-taichou pushing this so hard?

“Just that he had assumed guardianship of a small girl, and would no longer be participating in extended missions outside of the village.”

The Jounin Commander frowned. “Dammit Kakashi…” The man spent a good two minutes thinking, and Itachi considered the likelihood that the man was debating whether or not to tell him the truth. And then the older man apparently decided it was worth the risk. “I will tell you what is going on only if you can ensure that it remains a secret.”

Itachi frowned. “A secret from whom?”

Shikaku-san sighed. “Kakashi is currently away to meet with Asuma, in order to obtain all of the facts regarding the girl’s abilities. We are waiting to report to the Hokage until we have a better idea of what is actually going on. And we would prefer if Danzou was involved as little as possible.”

Itachi thought about the man’s assertion carefully. Even ignorant of the girl’s… ability (this was an ability?), he could understand wanting to remain circumspect around the Root Commander. He was hesitant to keep the information from the Hokage, however. Itachi understood that the man would only be able to properly protect the village if he was able to make informed decisions. Which necessitated having a thorough understanding of all of the risks. Although Itachi supposed that they didn’t plan to hide the circumstances indefinitely… so the preteen nodded his acquiescence.

Shikaku-san shot him a tired half-smile in return, and then went on to describe the girl. “Apparently, Sakura-chan is able to dream about the future suffering of others. Which has included everything from village invasions to clan massacres. But there are rules regarding the recipient. And some degree of contact is required to instigate the episodes.”

Itachi stared at the man. “Are you suggesting that Sakura-chan was dreaming about my future?”

Shikaku-san nodded, and Itachi felt something drop in the pit of his stomach. Because he remembered one of the mutterings. Where he had apparently told his little brother to kill him. Encouraged him to suffer and _hate_. But Itachi couldn’t imagine wanting to do those things to Sasuke. Couldn’t even imagine being _forced_ to do those things to Sasuke.

It couldn’t be true, right?

“Have you verified any of these visions?”

Inoichi-san felt the need to intercede in the conversation. “We have. I have personally performed jutsu techniques that allowed me to see into her mind, and I can confirm that she is not lying. And we performed an experiment in order to test the truth of these visions. We purposely introduced her to an incarcerated civilian who was scheduled to be hanged, and without any visual or auditory cues she was able to predict the exact time and manner of his death.”

“Have any of the visions not come true?”

Inoichi shrugged. “We would have not way of knowing. She hasn’t told us everything she has seen. And some of the events she has witnessed will not occur for decades, so it is impossible to know at the moment.” The man paused, and offered a wry grin, “Besides, we are currently trying to work out the possibility and consequences of intervention. Whether or not these tragedies could be preventable. That would give our village quite the advantage.”

At the word intervention, Itachi was able to calm slightly. So, even in the far off chance that this girl’s ability to see the future was correct, there was a possibility to avoid that fate. The sliver of hope was enough to calm his racing heart, and devote his extensive brain power to plotting for the future.

Shikaku-san interrupted. “That is if Danzou doesn’t have her executed first.”

Itachi considered why the man would want to kill the small girl, and then let out a soft ‘Ah’ as he realized. Sakura-chan has accidentally seen the secrets of some of the village’s strongest shinobi. Had detailed knowledge about their weaknesses. Information that could easily be used against Konoha if she was ever captured by outside forces.

“Do you plan to make her resistant to interrogation?”

Inoichi sighed. “Eventually?”

Itachi considered who might be the most appropriate member of the T&I division to conduct such a training. It would need to be someone with experience and influence. Someone was not easily cowed by the council members or Root forces. Someone who would not be put off by the girl’s eccentricities (a.k.a. someone who would consider her extreme paranoia as a delightful eccentricity). “Morino Ibiki?”

Both men nodded. “Eventually,” Inoichi-san repeated.

“And in the meantime…” Shikaku-san started with a purposely lofty tone, staring innocently at the ceiling, “I don’t suppose you would be willing to train her? She needs to know how to defend herself. And she needs to learn how to control her fear and apprehension. You might be a good fit to help her with both.”

Itachi felt an eyebrow rise as he registered his surprise. “Didn’t she just enter the Academy?”

Shikaku-san shook his head at the pre-teen. “I’m not sure you understand the scope of her problem. Her ability will allow her to see clan secrets. Have access to blackmail against the village’s most powerful inhabitants. Aside from being a potential security risk, or being used for interrogation and infiltration purposes, there will be individuals attempting to ensure her demise if only to keep their secrets. She needs to be strong enough to avoid that fate.”

Itachi pursed his lips in consideration. “She will be subject to assassination attempts for her entire life.”

Shikaku-san grinned at the pre-teen. “That is why we enrolled her in the Academy.”

Itachi nodded in consideration. Then, “I will attempt to help when I have the time. But only if you or Kakashi-taichou will be present. At least until she calms down. She seems very afraid of me.”

Shikaku-san nodded and readily agreed.

And Itachi considered how this chance encounter could change his life. Although first he would need to trust her. Perhaps he could conduct some of his own research to reassure himself of his suspicions?

He tiredly thought of everything he had left to do before the day was over. A clan meeting. Writing up the report of a recent ANBU mission. Bukijutsu practice. And he was sure his little brother would insist on some form of attention…

And this was just one more thing.

Itachi sighed in resignation.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am concerned this POV doesn't actually sound like Itachi- let me know? I'll do some more editing tomorrow...
> 
> And as always, thank you for reading!


	8. He's Funny That Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shisui POV.

**Chapter 8: He's Funny That Way**

* * *

 

“When we love, we always strive to become better than we are. When we strive to become better than we are, everything around us becomes better too.”   
― Paulo Coelho

* * *

 

Shisui was bored.

The kind of bored where you find yourself aimlessly ambling around with the arbitrary hope that you’ll stumble into some great drama that will demand your attention. The kind of bored where you find yourself eating random things from random food stalls just so you have a way to keep your hands and mouth occupied. The kind of bored where you find yourself trying to annoy certain dangerous individuals that react badly to any kind of agitation, just for something to do.

“Damnit Uchiha! Get that fucking thing away from me!”

Morini Ibiki was such a dangerous individual. Although it had been years since Shisui considered the grotesque scars covering his face and the loud, profane threats to equal any kind of _real_ danger. Now they just meant fun. A brief respite from the endless tedium that was his life since his previous workaholic of a captain decided to adopt a brat out of freakin’ nowhere and cut their mission count in half.

“Uchiha, I swear to kami, if you don’t get that damned feather out of my face, I’m going to break your hand in fourteen fucking places!”

Shisui grinned. “Fourteen? That’s oddly specific.”

“I have a lot of experience breaking hands. Now fuck off! My lunch break is almost over, and I want to finish my dumplings.”

Shisui’s grin widened. “I could help? Wouldn’t want to waste all of that delicious food…”

Ibiki-iki sent him a glare that made Shisui put his hands up playfully in surrender. “Go mooch off of somebody else. I swear, you’re just as bad as Hatake these days…”

Shisui snorted in derision, sure that Ibiki-iki would be surprised to learn how little that statement applied. Sure, his captain still occasionally conned his way into getting free food. But that was no longer his modus operandi towards obtaining a meal. In fact, just last week Shisui saw him picking out groceries at the market, gripping the hand of a nervous little girl nonchalantly.

And that was not the only attestation of his captain’s recent… domestication. According to village gossip, the man had gone out of his way to purchase new linens and actual cookware. A significant thing indeed for a man that was still using the same comforter he had gotten as a child.

Shisui just couldn’t understand the appeal. He had tried to spend time with Sasuke after his mother had nagged at him for a week about family obligations, and Itachi blatantly (for him) nudged him in that direction. But the kid was a snot-nosed brat. Incapable of holding a decent conversation, unable to handle any real pain without crying or whining, blinded by hero-worship… too spoiled to be willing to compromise. It was a nightmare.

And to sign up for that voluntarily… Sure, he had always recognized in some distant part of his mind that Kakashi was short a few kunai, but this was proof of his suspicions.

Shisui was wrenched from his internal musings when he recognized a pink bob of hair, and looked around for his captain. But to his surprise, the silver-haired man was nowhere to be seen. Instead, the little girl was being led by the Jounin Commander and his baby cousin.

Shisui felt his brows raise in intrigue. Here it was. The great drama he had been waiting for. Not even stopping to say goodbye to his reluctant lunch companion, Shisui shot out of his seat, unaware that the Head Interrogator was watching the small group of people with just as much interest.

“Well, this is an interesting procession of people.” Shisui had learned a long time ago never to wait for an introduction, as they were rarely forthright. Throwing himself into a conversation always seemed to work better for him anyways. “You must be Hatake’s kid.”

The girl’s gaze was solemn and curious. While her body language was anxious, she seemed less excitable than some of the other children that he had seen at the Compound. A point in her favor. “Uchiha-san.”

He grinned, eying Itachi-chan and Nara-chou mischievously. He directed his question to the midget, after determining that she was the most likely to answer. “Are you off on some grand adventure?”

She responded with a seriousness that reminded Shisui oddly of his cousin when he was younger. Far too mature for someone her age. Another point. “They are going to help me train.”

Shisui felt his right eyebrow raise towards his hairline in incredulous surprise. A five-year-old was going to be trained by the Uchiha prodigy and the Jounin Commander? Was she some kind of genius? What was he missing here? “Do you mind if I tag along?”

Nara-chou sent him a lazy, dismissive smile, and he was sure he was about to be asked to leave, just as the little girl took a step in his direction. The two men accompanying her both stilled.

Her announcement was clear, quiet, and curious. “Your shadow is sad, but… you are not cursed.”

His baby cousin seemed to be unsettled by her phrasing, which was… odd. “Cursed?”

Pinky turned her wide eyes to Itachi. “Most of the Uchiha are cursed. Hatred runs deep.”

All three men frowned at her words. But Nara-chou stopped her before she could say anything else. He sighed in aggravation, and said, “Not here. Let’s wait until we get to the training ground.”

And just like that, Shisui found himself a part of their entourage.

The walk to the training ground was disconcerting, mostly because Itachi appeared to be so _visibly_ upset. Which was not at all a common occurrence, and made Shisui feel confused and strangely uneasy. He also couldn’t help but notice that the pink midget did her best to establish some distance between herself and his baby cousin. Which was dubious enough to add to Shisui’s agitation.

He sidled up next to her, determined to get to the bottom of this strangeness. “Midget,” he addressed the pinkette, and mentally awarded her another point when she didn’t throw a melodramatic fit like Sasuke had from the same address. “What is going on between you and Itachi-chan?”

The little girl nibbled on her bottom lip anxiously. “His life has a lot of suffering. It hurts.”

Well, that made absolutely no sense whatsoever. He tried to make the best of it. “You know he wouldn’t purposely hurt you, right?”

She shrugged.

Shisui’s eyes narrowed in confused affront. “He wouldn’t. He takes his job as a Konohagakure shinobi very seriously. He would never do anything that might cause you harm.”

Her response was quiet. “What if the Hokage decides I’m a threat? A… liability?” She sounded out that last word like she was still learning it, uncomfortable with the meaning and pronunciation.

Shisui frowned. And tried to recall if he had ever met a child their village considered a liability. Uncomfortably, he remembered a little blonde tyke that looked startlingly like his father, determined to wreak havoc playing pranks on the unfortunate Chunnin assigned guard duty. But even the kyuubi container wasn’t _aware_ that he was a liability.

This was very strange.

He tried again, offering Pinky a fake, bright smile. “Meh, you’re just a little girl. The Hokage doesn’t order his shinobi to kill little girls. He tells them to kill bad-nin and help keep the village safe.”

She frowned at him as if greatly disappointed. Shisui didn’t understand, but the look bothered him anyways. “The Hokage has ordered the death of little boys _and_ little girls. Even babies. I don’t want to talk to you if you are going to be a liar.”

And then she skipped ahead of him to walk next to Nara-chou.

Shisui wasted no time slinking up next to his baby cousin, irritated and dissatisfied with his attempt to interrogate the little girl. “What is she?”

Itachi raised a brow at him. “A little girl?”

Shisui scoffed. “Little girls aren’t personally trained by Jounin Commanders and Uchiha prodigies. What is she?”

Itachi’s face darkened, and he once again looked deeply troubled. “She is cursed.”

There was that word again. He didn’t like it. “Cursed how?”

His cousin shrugged and pointedly glanced at the Nara chief, and Shisui immediately understood that the circumstances were confidential, and not meant to be discussed until they had arrived at a secure location. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from fishing. “Something to do with knowing things she shouldn’t?”

Itachi took several long moments to respond. “Ah.”

Shisui huffed in aggravation, intuitive enough to pick up on why his baby cousin was troubled. The pink midget must have said something. This is not at all what his cousin needed. The kid already had an incredible amount of stress to deal with; the physical and mental demands of being an ANBU operative were taxing even for adults, never mind a twelve-year-old, and he knew the clan elders were pushing for him to become a commander and lead his own team. Shisui also knew that Fugaku had recently been contributing to the strain with his fanatical ideas about launching a coup against the village.

Which was ridiculous. Even for an Uchiha that had been indoctrinated with ideas about clan honor since infancy, and had personally experienced discrimination and misplaced fear by some of the village because of his family, Shisui didn’t understand it. Konoha had everything you could want in a village; what good did resentment and grudges serve except to deny yourself the benefit of security and convenience in exchange for blood and violence? Because there is no way the other clans would simply accept their clan’s intervention.

Sure it wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t dishonorable to settle. As a shinobi, Shisui was very familiar with the concept of sacrifices made for the sake of the village and the innocents that rested inside of its walls.

Shisui sighed loudly, caught in the familiar rabbit hole that was his worry whenever he let himself think about his clan’s situation.

And then an idea rapidly started tugging at the edges of his consciousness as he looked between Pinky and Itachi, and before he was even aware, he was voicing his concerns out loud, “Does she know about our clan’s… plans?”

A brief pause, and then, “I believe so.”

Shisui exhaled loudly, trying to consider the ramifications- “Well, fuck.”

“Hm.”

He shot his cousin a side-ways glance. “Is that why she is standing so far away from you?”

“Ah.”

“What does she think you are going to do?”

And then Shisui was forced to watch as his baby cousin’s face crumpled into a brief look of absolute torment, the stress lines in his cheeks especially pronounced. “Something terrible.” At that moment, Itachi looked so heart broken and vulnerable that Shisui almost stopped walking in his consternation. He didn’t resist the urge to inch over a few feet and wrap an arm around the younger boy’s shoulders.

Their attempt to walk together was awkward, but Shisui refused to let go, and Itachi did nothing to shrug him off. A red-flag if he had ever seen one. The last time Itachi had expressed such a strong feeling of self-condemnation that he sought physical comfort had been the first time he was required to assassinate a child. Shisui squeezed the boy’s shoulders and felt it necessary to repeat what he had said that night. “Itachi, you are the kindest, most considerate person I know. Kami only knows you would need to be a saint to love that brat you call a brother as much as you do. Anything you have ever done has been for the good of the village. You are not a tool, or a mindless killer. You are a protector. So whatever you are thinking right now, stop.”

Itachi’s reply was quiet and halting. “Do you think I would ever do something to hurt Sasuke?”

Shisui let out an exaggerated snort. “Of course not. The two of you share one of those disgustingly ideal sibling relationships that make the rest of us look like assholes. You would never let anything happen to Sasuke.”

Itachi tried to smile at him, but Shisui saw through the attempt. “Is that what the pink midget told you? That you would hurt Sasuke?”

Itachi remained quiet. Which was just as good as a confirmation, really.

“Well, she’s wrong. No matter what happens, we won’t let anything bad happen to your little brother. I mean, we’re the best Uchiha has to offer, right? Unparalleled in talent and sharp as a senbon, not to mention devilishly handsome-” Shisui paused in order to flutter his eyelashes dramatically, and was gratified to see Itachi’s lips twitch in amusement. “If anyone can figure out what to do about your father’s plans, it’s us.”

“Hm.”

There was another minute of silence while Shisui thought everything through, and then he felt the need to ask, “Does Fugaku know?”

“No.”

Shisui frowned. And tried not to think about what proud Fugaku would do to anyone he considered a threat to his plans. A liability indeed. “That makes sense. But the Hokage knows, right? If Nara-chou is involved.”

“No.”

Shisui felt his brows furrow, “What?” He looked over at the back of a messy ponytail with a frown. “Why?” Why wouldn’t the Hokage be aware of something like this? Why would neither of these two men inform him of this development? This was very odd behavior for both of them.

“When we get to the training ground.”

Shisui let out a loud exhale in aggravation. He didn’t like having to wait. But he nodded anyways, beginning to understand that something bigger was at work, and entertained himself considering various conspiracies. His favorite current theory was that the girl had some kind of crazy doujutsu, and thus Itachi’s presence was required to tame her uncontrollable flashes of clairvoyance, but they couldn’t tell the Hokage because she had dirt on the council members, and telling him would be signing her death warrant. Or maybe… she actually had dirt on the Hokage.

Oh kami. That would be crazy.

They walked together for another couple of minutes, and were almost to the training field when Pinky froze and spun urgently towards the direction of the woods. Nara-chou glanced in that direction intently for a few moments, before he clearly dismissed her actions, slouching with his hands in his pockets just as he let out a big yawn. The Uchiha’s stood in confusion for a couple of seconds longer, until the familiar chakra signature rapidly approaching finally registered.

Shisui was reluctantly impressed at how quickly the pink midget was able to pick up on his arrival. Impressive for a puny five-year-old with an underdeveloped chakra system, anyway.

It took less than a minute for a blur of silver to shushin in front of them, and Shisui was very interested to see his erstwhile captain appear, sweaty and out of breath. Said man looked around at their entourage with a speculative glance just a second before the pink midget launched herself into his arms.

“Sakura-chan~!” His captain sang to the little girl in greeting, a big smile stretching his face, and Shisui couldn’t stop shaking his head in dismayed horror. What had she done to his previously nonchalant, porn-reading captain that couldn’t stand kids? He used to be so cool…

Itachi snorted beside him, and Shisui caught his baby cousin looking at him with amusement.

Shisui pouted.

Nara-chou led them into a secluded thicket of trees just to the side of the training yard. “You have news?”

His taichou nodded. “Mm. According to Asuma-kun, Sakura-chan was subject to some kind of Jashinist ritual. He said she was on the brink of death, but this group of men came and painted seals all over her body. And then they started chanting and she started screaming.”

Nara-chou waited a full fifteen seconds for him to continue, but when he didn’t, he gave the silver-headed young man an exasperated look, “And then?”

Kakashi-taichou shrugged. “And then one of the guys knocked him out. When he came too, he came back to find Sakura surrounded by dismembered dead bodies.”

Nara-chou frowned. “Were they shinobi?”

His taichou seemed to pick up on the Jounin Commander’s insinuation. “No. Apparently he was attempting to stop Sakura-chan’s body from seizing, and they hit a pressure point before he could dodge.”

“Sloppy.”

Kakashi-taichou shrugged again, and the hard look in his eyes was difficult to decipher.

“So we’re looking at some kind of religious interference? And did Asuma confirm the nature of her dreams?”

“He did. His exposure to her dreams are very similar to my experiences, which lends a degree of reliability.”

Nara-chou let out an aggravated sigh. “Well, that’s something at least. What more did he tell you about these Jashinist priests?”

“Just that they had plans to head to Yugakure, and that their religion seems to revolve around pain.”

The Commander’s response was sarcastic. “Fantastic.”

Shisui frowned, still trying to play catch-up. “Wait, let me get this straight. So some weird religious ritual gave Pinky clairvoyant dreams? About whom?” Perhaps his theory wasn’t too far off the mark?

His taichou shrugged his shoulders. “Whomever she touches.”

Shisui turned back to look at the little girl that was following their conversation intently, as anxiety began to curl from his torso, wrapping and pulling on the muscles in his limbs. Dread, as he felt a fool for so innocently musing about conspiracy theories when forced to confront the stark reality of his world, the indoctrinated belief that _liabilities_  meant risk, and risk meant death. Because the girl was right, she was definitely turning out to be a liability. “How much does she see?”

“All of the pain and suffering in a person’s lifetime.”

Shisui let out a slow breath as he considered that. Kami, what a thing to witness. But still mentally engrossed considering the danger of exposure, the lives that hung in the inept hands of little girl, Shisui's concerns grew. And still ruminating over his baby cousin’s fear and torment, he felt himself grow defensive for Itachi’s sake. “And you know for sure that the future plays out exactly as she sees it?”

Nara-chou answered, frowning. “From what we have witnessed. But are we suggesting the future is unchangeable? That certain events are set in stone? No. There is no way of knowing. And neither do we believe that Sakura is somehow omniscient. She is still only a little girl.”

Shisui nodded, but his doubts grew in the face of the man's obvious _investment_ in the situation. “And so you plan to train her, to protect her? Hoping she will turn out to be a contingency for the village, rather than a liability?”

Nara-chou’s response was stern. “The same thing that is offered to every shinobi under our tutelage.”

“This is not the same thing.”

His taichou’s voice was colder than he could remember it being in a long time. “Are you suggesting that we kill her?”

Shisui stared into Kakashi’s one visible eye for an entire minute considering his response. Killing her would certainly be a wiser course of action than whatever they had planned. But it was clear, according to the tone and defensive postures of the men in front of him, that they didn't see it as a viable option. And as much as Shisui enjoyed starting trouble, her attempted murder would be a great deal more serious than trouble. Best to tread lightly. Did they have plans to mitigate the risk?

“No. I’m not suggesting that. I just want to know what about her gives you such confidence. How do you know she will be devoted to the village? How do you know she will someday be able to protect herself?”

“Doesn’t she deserve the opportunity to prove that for herself? Like everyone else?”

“Perhaps. But how do you know that her presence and the knowledge that she carries will actually do good for the village, rather than encourage us to obsess over our past and future pain and suffering?”

Nara-chou nodded. “A wise concern. So far we have attempted to limit how many know about her abilities, but that is a valid consideration to contemplate for the future. I suppose we will just have to remain cognizant of the fact that we are the masters of our own fate.” He was looking at Itachi as he ended that statement, and Shisui felt somewhat relieved to know that he hadn’t been the only one to take notice of Itachi’s introspective depression.

“So you do not intend to cater events to suit Pinky’s visions?”

Nara-chou scoffed. “Not at all. What happens will happen. But forewarning is not something that I will turn away. Especially if tragedies can be avoided. After all, “The greatest victory is that which requires no battle.”” 

Shisui let out a ridiculously over-exaggerated sigh of defeat. “Fine, fine, you’ve convinced me. But you might want to do something about those two. Itachi-chan is not going to be a very effective teacher if his pupil remains so adamant about avoiding him.” Mentally he began to make plans to establish some means of surveillance so he could keep abreast of the situation. It was clear that Kakashi was emotionally compromised, and that the Nara head had personal investments in the girl that made him a biased party. Itachi was too distracted with these illusions of the future, and too deferent to authority figures to consider going against their will. Someone needed to be aware of the situation who could objectively make the judgment call about whether her life was worth the risk. 

His thoughts were interrupted by Kakashi-taichou's blasé interjection. “I am rather curious about how this came about. How did the Uchihas get involved?” His taichou looked between his charge and Shisui’s baby cousin with interest. Nara-chou began to explain the events of the last few days, which Shisui listened to with half an ear as he carefully observed everyone in his circle. Once the conversation turned to discussing a weekly barbeque hosted at the Nara compound, he herded Pinky and his cousin into a huddle a few feet away.

Shisui turned to the midget.  His first step should be to try to learn more about the girl, and establish a more trustful point of contact. If she and Itachi were more familiar, it would look less strange for him interject himself in their interactions.“Right, well, what can we do to make you more comfortable working with Itachi-chan?”

The small girl shrugged and stared up at him with wide eyes.

Kami, she looked guileless. Shisui switched gears, deciding that he would try to reason through her aversion to Itachi, and crouched down next to her. “You know everything Itachi-chan does is for love, right?”

The girl readily nodded. “For Sasuke.”

“That’s right, for Sasuke. But Sasuke is not the only one he is capable of loving.”

Pinky peered seriously into Itachi’s face. “I know. He loves his mother.”

Shisui sent his cousin a cheeky smile. “He does indeed. He is actually a _huge_ mama’s boy.”

The girl bit her lip anxiously.

“What is it, midget?” Shisui nudged the girl playfully, anticipating a sad remark about the passing of her mother. He mentally debated the most appropriate way to commiserate; a pat on the shoulder, or maybe even a half-hug? 

Her voice was soft and halting as she blinked up into Itachi's face. “I just… I don’t get it. If you loved her so much, then why… why did you kill her?”

Both boys stilled in surprise and disbelief. And denial. Or at least, Shisui was consumed with denial, despite having heard that this ability of hers was reliably witnessed by multiple people. Itachi would sooner kill his mother than Shisui would offer himself to be one of Orochimaru's experiments. In his shocked outrage, Shisui was the first to snap out of it. “What?” he brashly questioned. “Is that what you saw? When? Where?”

“The Uchiha Massacre.” She stated the name like it was common knowledge, and Shisui wished he had the ability to rip those words out of existence.

Itachi was dangerously pale, obviously buying into whatever this was. “There is a massacre.”

She nodded blithely, ignorant brat that she was. “You kill almost everyone.”

Shisui met Itachi’s eyes, and forced himself to attempt to rationalize this supposed future. Unfortunately, the likelihood of a massacre was much easier to reconcile than Itachi's act of matricide. “Your father must have gained enough support to launch the coup. And the village retaliated.”

Pinky nodded, still looking at Itachi. “The Hokage and council asked you to do it.”

Shisui worked through the shock and outrage currently numbing his extremities, although it did nothing for his heartache. It pulled at his torso and his head until the pain was practically physical. If this was true, which considering the vicious vendetta a couple of council members in particular seemed to have against his clan, it could be... How could they do that? After everything Itachi has already sacrificed for the village? In light of his obvious loyalties? Ask Itachi to kill his own family? Why couldn’t they have ordered someone else to do it?

“Sasuke?” Itachi-chan asked, apprehension positively dripping from his voice.

“He kills you. Eventually.”

Shisui barked out a bitter laugh as he considered the fact that his concerns about her abilities were coming back to bite him in the ass. “What a fucking tragedy. And where was I, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Dead. After Danzou took your eye.”

Shisui felt so… embittered. Upset. Unsettled. Betrayed. Still suspicious about the authenticity of the midget's clairvoyance, but there was enough evidence supporting her ability that he couldn't readily dismiss it.

So operating under the idea that she was right- How could they have let this happen?

But then he remembered what Nara-chou had stated earlier. These things were not set in stone. And they were the masters of their own fate. He and Itachi-chan were the _masters of their own fate_. _Masters_. They could change this. And in a fit of motivated righteousness, Shisui practically marched over to where the little girl stood, feeling a need to push back against the whims of the universe. He looked her right in the face. “I refuse to let that happen. Do you hear me? Absolutely none of that will come to pass.”

The girl frowned, but slowly nodded. “Okay.”

Shisui nodded, still feeling worked up, and had to swallow the bitter pill that he was now as invested in her abilities as the Nara head. The taste of surrender was caustic and rife with hypocrisy, but the lives of his family were more important. And he would personally take the responsibility of making her existence less of a risk to the village to make up for it. “Alright, here is our deal. Itachi and I will help you train. As much as you can stand. But in return you have to help us avoid this… massacre. Deal?”

He could tell the little girl was carefully thinking about his offer, and felt the better for her consideration. “Deal.”

Shisui let out another forceful breath, trying to expel all of his upset feelings, but was met with mixed success. So he turned to the other obviously depressed people in his huddle, and made the executive decision that they could train later. Little could be accomplished until they knew more about her strengths and weaknesses, anyways, which would require coercion and conversation. “This deal needs to be celebrated. And then we can spend some time trying to get to know each other. Ice cream?”

Pinky’s eyes sparkled like he had just promised to grant her the universe. Itachi’s lips twitched in amusement after witnessing the dramatic change in her expression, despite the weight of his thoughts.

Without waiting for verbal acquiescence from either party, Shisui wasted no time hurrying them back towards town. He didn't bother stopping to inform Nara-chou or Taichou. If they wanted to follow, they could. In the meantime, he had a subtle interrogation to conduct.

At least he no longer had cause to be bored. But suddenly caught up in a tangled mess of angsty drama, he found he missed it.

* * *

To be continued...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize greatly for the long wait. And I will do my utmost to update more regularly. I hope you enjoyed Shisui! Please let me know if you noticed any inconsistences or grammatical errors. I edit everything myself, so I always end up missing something...
> 
> The quote, "The greatest victory is that which requires no battle," is by Sun-Tzu in The Art of War.
> 
> Also to note, in regards to Shisui's nicknames for people:  
> Ibiki-iki: A play on iki, which is a Japanese aesthetic ideal that is generally understood to be blunt, clear, and direct, and yet somehow romantic. I figured Shisui could ascribe this to the Head Interrogator, and enjoy teasing him by attaching a style of beauty to the raw savagery that is Ibiki's appearance and personality. It also has the benefit of being fun to say.  
> Nara-chou: Most direct translation would be the Nara chief, or head of the Naras. It fit for some reason in my head.
> 
> Thank you for reading. :)


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